The Python Defense
by canoncansodoff
Summary: Harry formulates an innovative taunting-based Occlumency barrier inspired by Monty Python and the Holy Grail. Snape retaliates by threatening to reveal Harry's perviest memories and fantasies, including those involving a certain bushy-haired best friend.
1. Chapter 1

**The Python Defense  
**A slightly schizophrenic, occasionally disturbing Fifth Year bawdy H/Hr/more? crack fic by canoncansodoff

**A/N: **The first four installments of this multi-chapter crack fic were hacked out in fairly short order, forming a fairly coherent story that (while not completed) was sitting at a fairly good place. And there is sat for a long while while I worked on other projects. But then an attack of "and then what happens?" hit me, because as is normally the case I hadn't fleshed out a complete story outline before I dove in. And enough readers were bugging me to answer that question...mostly readers that wanted me to turn the story into a harem fic. And I thought it might be fun to see how long I could dance on the knife's edge between harmony and harem. So here we are...with a three-chapter crack fic that is now 10 chapters long (and growing). Some things never change. _ccso, Oct 2010_.

Obvious tips of the cap to Monty Python and clell's "Harry Potter and the Marriage Contracts."

**Disclaimer:** Not my characters, no money being made, etc., etc.

**Warning: **This chapter contains a few disturbingly graphic descriptions of Dolores Umbridge, Molly Weasley, Petunia Dursley, and Sybill Trelawney. You have been warned.

**oo00OO00oo**

**Chapter 1: Inspired Defenses **

The fact that the mental avatars of _Legilimency_ experts lack most of the physical limitations of their "real" analogues allowed Severus Snape to sneer more severely than humanly possible when he dropped into Harry Potter's defensive mindscape.

"Oh, no…not another castle…what ever shall I do?" he asked with dripping sarcasm.

What he did decide to do was follow the well-trod path established during other "Remedial Potions" lessons…conjure a chair, sit, and see how long it took for the boy's overbuilt Occlumency barriers to fall from their own weight.

As soon as he settled himself, a soldier dressed in medieval plate mail and a bullet-shaped helmet called down from the ramparts.

"'Allo? Who is zis?"

The Potions Master rolled his eyes, and shouted, "You know full well who is probing your defenses, Potter." He then gave a dismissive wave towards the stonewalls and added, "A more pertinent question is…what is this?"

"'Zis is 'ze castle of my Master, 'Arry de la Gryffindor."

"Oh, please," said Snape. "The only thing Potter has likely mastered is masturbation."

"Oh, ho…you wish to play ze word games?"

"No, I think I'll just sit and wait for these walls to fall by themselves, just as they have every other time."

"Very well, you 'zilly English wizard…we will now activate ze castle's defenses."

"Right," sneered Snape. "And what might those be?"

"I shall taunt you until you become zo frustrated, zat you leave, silly Englishman…you who call yourself a wand waver…you are no more a wizard 'zen Neville Longbottom iz a Potions Master."

Snape didn't bother to respond beyond a roll of his avatar's eyes.

"You dare to ignore me, English pig-dog?" asked the soldier. "Go and boil your bottom, son of a silly person. I blow my nose at you, you so-called Professor. Thppppt!"

The Head of Slytherin House stared in disbelief as the soldier stuck out his tongue, wiggled his fingers whilst his thumbs were stuck in his ears, then tapped his hands on his helmeted head.

"You will show me respect, Potter."

"I don't 'zink so, you empty-headed animal food trough whopper. I fart in your general direction! Your mother was a hamster, and your father smelt of elderberries!"

"You insolent little…!"

"It eez your pee-pee zat iz little, you limp-dicked dunderhead!"

"You dare to…!"

"I dare whatever I want to dare within my own mind, you Umbridge-eating wanker! Go and soil your shorts with lewd dreams of the toad-woman's titties!"

The stomach-churning imagery that Harry's insults generated in Snape's own cranium was so off-putting that he lost all focus on his _Legilimens_ attack, and was bounced from Harry's mind with only the smallest of nudges.

As the "repentant" Death-Eater's mind cleared and he gathered his bearings, Harry Potter did something that had never been done before in the Potions professor's office.

He did a happy dance.

"Oh yeah!…I did it!…Oh yeah!…Go me!…Oh yeah!…"

"Potter!"

"Yes, Sir?" Harry asked with a wide smile.

"One hundred points from Gryffindor, and a month of detentions for your impertinence!"

"For what, Sir?"

"For not showing respect! For the insults! For the brain-bleaching taunts!"

"But Sir," Harry protested, with a smile that faded only a bit. "You gave me permission."

"I did no such thing, Potter!"

"Yes you did, Sir…during my very first Occlumency lesson, you instructed me to do whatever I could think of to keep you from accessing my mind. And, well…taunting you is what I thought of this time."

"So you think that my instructions allowed for hurling vulgar images?"

"Have to admit that it worked, Sir, don't you?" Harry asked. "Once you worried more about how to respond to the banter than focus on your attack, it was easy for me to push you out of my head."

The Slytherin Head of House seethed at Harry's logic.

"You think that you're so smart, don't you Potter? So witty? Think that you've found a way around showing your betters proper respect?"

Snape then let out a deep breath, as an evil-looking gleam gelled in his eyes.

"Tell me, Potter, whose bits do _you_ dream of late at night? What voyeuristic perversions do _you_ dwell on as you wank in the shower? Wait….don't bothering answering me, I think that I'll find out for myself."

"What?"

"You heard me, Potter, I am going to shred your defenses, and ferret out every single witch...or limp-wristed wizard…that you dream about…every classmate that you lust over…every perverse memory of lace and flesh that you use as wanking material!"

The _Legilimens_ expert grinned when he spotted the fear in the eyes of his dead enemy's spawn. Snape then slowly counted to ten.

While he wanted to get on with the hunt for embarrassing details, he knew that the hunt would be that much more fruitful if he waited. The reason for this was simple human nature. Tell someone not to think of something, and they can't help but to think it. Warn someone that all of their embarrassing moments will be found and put on display, and they will inexorably pull those moments out of long-term memory, and worry over them in their short-term memory banks (which were always easier for a mental invader to access).

Once the count was complete, Snape demanded, "Clear your mind, boy." He then thrust his wand towards Harry's face and called out the incantation_..._not with the usual shout, but with a sickly-sweet sing-songy voice that dripped with sadistic glee.

Severus Snape had suggested many different ways that Harry might build Occlumency barriers. Nothing too helpful, mind you…just enough instruction to convince the Headmaster that these remedial potions lessons were more than straight-out mind-rape sessions. Almost invariably, Harry had thought of strong castles defending his memories, or impenetrable steel walls. Snape was therefore caught off guard when he was presented with something completely different.

It was a distance-based defense.

He had dropped into a barren wilderness…an arid high plains environment, with flat-topped mesas on the horizon, and expansive grasslands in the foreground. The air was hot, crisp, and filled with many strange scents that were not native to the British Isles.

It was an admittedly intriguing mindscape.

Snape's avatar was able to discern two scents amongst the many…a very distant whiff of dinner, and a dog that was keeping that dinner from him. When he raised his nose to the wind to better locate his prey, the Head of Slytherin House was quite surprised to discover that this nose was on the end of a furry snout. And then he realized that his visual perspective was low to the ground, and that his furry bare feet had pads and claws.

A fear that he'd been turned into Sirius Black's animagus form was discounted when Snape noted his avatar's mottled fur coloring, and decided that Potter wouldn't have made his godfather the symbolic host for predatory mental intruders.

He just might, however, imagine invaders to be wolves, if his protected memories were thought of as a flock of sheep.

And there was indeed a flock high up in the valley of this mindscape…a flock of sheep guarded by a large white dog with a lightning bolt-shaped patch of black fur on his forehead.

Snape shook his head dismissively…it would be so simple to sneak up on the flock…even if he chose to play by Potter's mindscape rules.

The avatar advanced on his prey at a leisurely pace, until a change in wind direction suddenly left him upwind of his potential prey. That the sheep and their guard caught his scent was soon proven out, as the dog barked and began to push the flock towards a corral that was protected by high barbwire fences. Snape's avatar howled, and broke out into a dead run across the short grass.

As he closed he tdistance, Snape noted that there were far too many sheep for one dog to protect, and that they had strayed too far from the protective fencing. And the best part? The best part was that the guard dog knew just how vulnerable he had left his flock, and was being forced to make some tough choices on what to save, and what to (literally) leave to the wolves.

There were, for example, a handful of sheep who were totally ignoring the dog's warnings as they mindlessly continued to graze.

"This is almost too easy," Snape thought, as he leapt into the air and pounced on one of these left-behinds. The mental image was released just as soon as his bite drew blood.

…_Molly Weasley's immense arse wobbles and jiggles freely as she does some nude dishwashing in the Burrow's kitchen and sings along with the Wizarding Wireless…_

"Yuck!" Snape howled, as he spit the image out of his mouth. "The boy is more perverse then I thought."

He jumped over the downed sheep and bit down on the neck of a second straggler.

…_Petunia Dursley removes still-warm knickers from her Muggle clothes dryer. She slips them on, then grinds her silk-covered fanny against the white metal appliance…_

"Horrid!" thought Snape, as his avatar vomited. "I can't believe that…."

A third ewe sauntered in front of the wolf. It was too tempting a target, and Snape bit.

…_Sibyll Trelawney lies on the floor of her former classroom, dressed only in a scarf and thick glasses. Her legs are spread in the air as she grinds a crystal ball against her hairless fanny. The ball acts as a magnifying lens, making her engorged labia appear even larger as she moans , "Oh, Severus! Oh Severus! Oh Severus!"…_

Snape's avatar was left with an empty stomach as the "memory" he spat out was followed by the contents of his stomach. In between heaves, he caught sight of a grinning dog who was watching from a distance.

"Blasted Potter!" thought the Potions professor. "These were diversionary traps!"

The planted "memories" designed to repulse Snape and put him off the attack instead enraged him. No Potter was going to get the best of him two times in a row!

The lupine avatar lunged towards the flock of real memories. The sheep dog yelped, and retreated towards his last line of defense.

With the guard dog's focus on protecting a small group of deliciously plump targets, Snape's avatar dodged towards the unprotected rear of the main flock, where small, lamb-sized targets were struggling to keep up with the others. The wolf couldn't tell if the size represented the relative age of the memories, or their relative importance…at least not until he caught up with one of the laggards and hamstrung its hind leg with a ferocious bite.

…_Cho Chang closes her eyes, leans forward, and delivers a very soggy kiss…_

"That's it?" Snape thought to himself. "That's all that he got from the girl?" He spit out the hobbled lamb, and bit into another unprotected memory.

…_Ginny Weasley walks out of an upstairs bathroom in Grimmauld Place dressed only in a towel, and passes Harry in the hallway. Just before she reaches the door to her bedroom, the towel "accidentally" slips, giving the boy a glimpse of the redhead's boyish bum…_

The wolf shook his head with disappointment as he scraped the last little bits of meat from that bone. Potter must not have had the bollocks to follow up on the tart's obvious invitation.

There was a third unprotected memory within easy striking range. It was a little plumper than the other two, and showed much more promise. Snape pounced, and was immersed in the memory.

_It was sometime during the winter months in Hogwarts. Snape views the Great Hall from Harry's eyes as a flock of owls sweeps in through the windows and begins to deliver the day's mail. Harry is surprised and suspicious when a small brown owl lands in front of him. His gaze immediately shifts up to the Head Table and to Dolores Umbridge._ (Ah, Snape thought…it must be a recent memory).

_Umbridge's mail censors have been in full force, leaving the Boy-Who-Lived with even less correspondence then normal. But perhaps this got through because of the wax seal? Or more specifically, due to mark of an Ancient and Noble Pureblood family within the wax?_

_Harry turns to his side, and asks Hermione to cast a curse detection spell on the letter. She does, and declares it safe to open. So he does, and is surprised to discover a letter from the patriarch of the Greengrass family, inviting him to begin negotiations on a marriage contract involving his daughter Daphne. There is a draft betrothal contract attached to the cover letter with terms that Harry doesn't understand, and doesn't think he needs to understand. _

_He looks across the hall, to where Daphne Greengrass is sitting at the Slytherin table. She looks up from her plate, notices the envelope, then immediately drops her gaze back to a rasher of bacon as her face blushes bright red. Harry is confused, and a bit embarrassed about the situation. When Hermione asks him what the letter is about, he lies and says that it was just some bureaucratic nonsense from the Ministry. Harry then tries to stuff the letter and contract back into the envelope._

_And that is when he notices the wizarding photographs that were still inside._

_He doesn't have a clear view of the images, as he was looking at them down the length of the long envelope, but was he sees is enough to cause his blushing cheeks to give Daphne's a run for her money. _

_Hermione asks to see the letter, but Harry brushes her off, promising to show her when they are in a more private setting. And only after he had a chance to remove those photographs from the envelope. _

The memory faded to gray as Snape finished gnawing one of the lamb's shanks. Seeing plenty of meat on another untouched leg, he grabbed hold and bit into a new scene that Harry had apparently mentally attached to the first.

_The Fifth-Year Gryffindor walks into his empty dormitory room with the same envelope in hand. He goes immediately to his bed, and draws his curtains. Once a _Lumos_ provides sufficient light, he opens the envelope and dumps its contents onto the duvet. There are three different wizarding photographs in the envelope, each depicting the same two-part sequence of events in different settings: a) Daphne Greengrass nervously smiles at the camera, and, b) Daphne Greengrass gets naked._

_One photograph is set in the bathroom, giving Harry an intimate introduction to the order in which Daphne soaps up her different bits. The second is, amazingly enough, staged in Snape's own classroom, with the Slytherin witch doing a striptease in front of the blackboard. And the third…the third is a nature shoot. Daphne is in the woods, where a unicorn allows her a naked petting session (presumably establishing her credentials as a virgin)._

_Strong emotions bleed into the memory as Harry examines each photograph. First there is confusion…why would a Slytherin that he'd barely spoken three words to over the previous five years want to marry him? And why would she consent to having nude wizarding photographs taken of her? _

_But it doesn't take long for lust to overwhelm the wondering…Harry watches all three images a second-time through, and freezes each at a certain point in time with the tip of his wand. The bath picture stops just as the beautiful black-haired witch pinches both of her hard, soap-covered nipples. The potions classroom striptease is frozen as she sits back onto Snape's desk and exposes her well-trimmed fanny. And the nature shot is interrupted when Daphne turns her back to the camera, wiggles her heart-shaped arse, and nuzzles the unicorn's nose with her own. The teen-aged wizard uses a sticking charm to fix the pictures to the inside of his bed curtains, freeing up hands that hike up his robes and unzip his tented trousers... _

Snape was furious as he spit out the partially digested memory…not just because he'd almost witnessed Potter rubbing one off as he lusted after a student who had posed in the all-together for Potter's benefit, but mainly because the dunderhead didn't think that this memory was worth very much protection. Or perhaps the boy had once again tricked him into eavesdropping on a planted memory?

There was plenty of meat left on this memory, but Severus had no desire to waste time on what must have been a false image. And he was angry enough to focus on what the Potter boy obviously valued more, so he dropped the dead carcass and dashed towards a six-pack of memories that the sheepdog was trying desperately to herd behind the protective fence.

As Snape's wolf approached this small group, the dog turned and tried to scare him off with a ferocious growl. But once his back was turned, one of the six sheep began to stray. The dog's eyes went wide with fright when he spied this one specific memory walking off unprotected, and he ran away from the others so as to place him in between it and the wolf.

Snape's wolf howled in delight. Confident that he'd be able to feast on the one memory that Potter guarded above all, he turned towards the abandoned group and pounced on the nearest memory.

_It is obviously from Potter's Fourth Year, and he had just surfaced from the lake during the Second Task with the Veela's little sister in tow. He helps the young girl up onto the dock, where Fleur jumps up from her chair, throws off her towel, and rushes to embrace the little girl. There is a furious bit of dialogue in French that neither Harry nor Snape understand, and then Gabrielle grabs her sister's hand and leads her to Harry. The French champion smiles, and it is at this point that the Fourth-Year notices that Fleur's swimming costume is translucent, and clinging to her skin in a way that clearly defines the dimensions of her perky brown nipples, and the vertical cleft between the tops of her long legs. _

_The French champion pulls Harry into an embrace that smashes those brown nipples against Harry's chest, and the well-defined cleft against Harry's crotch. _

"_Zank you for zaving my leetle sister's life," Fleur whispers into his ear. "We owe you a life-debt zat I will repay however you wish." _

_Harry's mind goes blank, so that he doesn't notice when the part-Veela suggests how he might choose to be rewarded by grinding her mound against his rapidly growing erection._

"_You don't owe me anything," he stammers. "You would have done the same for me."_

_Fleur glances over his shoulder to where Ron is drying off, and giggles. _

"_Perhaps," she purrs, although she doesn't really mean it. "But zere iz still a debt…and if you don't allow me to repay you, zen I am afraid zat my zister will insist on repaying you herself."_

_Harry looks at the eight-year old girl and startles as she winks at him, and slowly licks her lips with the tip of her tongue._

"_You drive a hard bargain, Miss Delacour," he replies. "I accept. Perhaps we can work out a 'repayment' in a few day's time?"_

_Fleur smiles, and reaches down to give the young English wizard's bum a squeeze._

"_I look forward to it."_

_The friends and classmates of the two Champions come forward, and force them apart to offer individual congratulations. _

The memory faded to gray mist, and then faded back in with an attached memory where Harry and Fleur meet in an unused classroom.

An impatient Snape spat out one shank and bit into the other, willing the memory to speed forward to what he anticipated to be an premature ejaculation. When that didn't happen he tackled the ribs, and then the shoulders, and then he swallowed the head in whole. But all of the bits of this one lamb left a sour taste in his mouth…instead of awkward, embarrassing liaisons, the memories were of two teenagers who kept their robes on as they just talked about their lives, their difficulties, and their loves. The emotions tied to the scene included trust, and warmth and friendship…exactly the sort of thing that Snape didn't want to experience (and force Harry to relive). Disgusted, Snape tossed the carcass aside and pounced onto another target.

_He is attending a party after a Quidditch victory…most likely Harry's third year, based on who was in uniform. It is just the team members in the room, and after a lot of butterbeer Fred and George convince the female Chasers to play a game of strip poker with the boys. Soon everyone is down to their undergarments. Katie Bell is the last one to lose her robes, and shows off a skimpy black bra and matching thong that catches Harry's eye. Katie then loses the next hand as well. She protests, but is eventually chided into stripping off her bra. It's the first time that Harry has seen bared breasts, and it creates an embarrassingly large tent in his boxer shorts. His teammates tease him without mercy as he adjusts himself to keep from poking out the front flap. _

_More of the game is played, and Fred Weasley and Oliver Wood go starkers. Alicia and Angelina then lose their tops, allowing Harry to compare differences in breast size, breast shape, and nipple color. Alicia is doing some comparison of her own, and asks, "How many witches can sleep under that tent, Harry?" _

_Katie Bell once again loses, and all of the boys are excited (well, Oliver is non-plussed, and Harry wonders if that says something about his captain's interests). The young witch turns around and slowly strips off her thong. Harry notices that the fabric is stuck up in between her arse cheeks, and has to be dragged along as the knickers are slipped down over Katie's thighs. _

_Once she's stepped her feet out of the holes, Katie swings the thong around on a finger, then throws it blindly over her shoulder. It lands on Harry's head, and his nose with filled with an intoxicating musky scent. He's embarrassed and aroused as he pulls the undergarment away from his face. Just then, one of Fred and George's perimeter alarms goes off…a professor or prefect is coming. Everybody scrambles to banish the booze and throw on their robes. Things get almost back to "normal" when McGonagall arrives, and shuts down the party. _

_Harry realizes that he still has Katie's knickers, and he balls them up in his fist to hide them from their Head of House. He freaks when he feels just how wet the fabric is, and realizes that it's not just because his palms are sweaty. As they file out of the party room under Minerva's watchful eye, Harry brushes up against Katie and passes her the pants. She squeezes his hand, waggles her eyebrows, and mouths the words, "Keep them."_

Snape was impressed, and also rather excited as he finished off the memory…not sexually excited by what he just experienced, but excited about what he had yet to see. If Potter sacrificed this memory to save the others, what were they like? He spit out this latest carcass and looked up. Harry's sheepdog avatar has gotten the other memories behind the fence, and was standing protectively in front of the gate.

The Potions Master sneered as his wolf stood up on its hind legs. With a wave of his front paw he broke through Harry's constructed lupine form, and replaced the avatar with his own wand-wielding representation. Snape immediately cast a stunning spell towards Harry's sheepdog, which was too shocked to dodge the attack.

Once Potter's avatar was downed and defenseless, Snape turned towards the barbwire corral and banished it with a wave of his mental wand.

There weren't many unprotected sheep on the other side, but the limited menu was rich and satisfying. In short order Snape digested the following memories:

…_Susan Bones and Lisa Turpin do some naked lesbian snogging and crotch grinding in the Owlery as Harry watches and wanks underneath his invisibility cloak…_.

…_Luna Lovegood convinces Harry to join her in a rather chilly Winter Solstice nude run through the Forbidden Forest in search of dancing ice fairies…_

…_Harry sneaks into the witch's Quidditch field locker room, and watches as the female Gryffindor Chasers share a shower. He is caught out, and given a choice by the three smiling witches…either join them in the naked wash-up as their "Soap Boy", or explain what he was doing there to McGonagall. Harry reluctantly strips down as the three naked witches line up to have their fannies scrubbed to the point of orgasmic release…_

Snape pulled out of this last memory early, but with a wide smile on his avatar's face. Potter was already under a lifetime Quidditch ban, but the three Chasers were still playing for Gryffindor. If this last scene proved out to be real (rather than a fabricated wanking fantasy) then they might all be booted from the team as well, thereby ensuring the Cup's return to Slytherin House.

There'd be time enough for direct questioning under _Veritaserum_ on that point, once he backed out of the boy's mind. But first…there was one more ewe remaining. It had been the stray memory that Potter had protected above all others, and it was the plumpest, tastiest-looking memory in the flock.

Snape cornered the frightened animal, leapt, and bit down on its neck.

…_Harry enters the Hogwarts library, and makes his way through the front tables with a clear destination in mind..."their" table, right in front of the Restricted Section._

_Hermione is already there, and immersed in a thick book that rests on the tabletop. She's chewing on the nub of a quill, and idly twisting a lock of curly hair with her fingers. Needing to stretch a bit, she arches her back, spreads out her arms, and tucks a bent leg underneath her other leg. Harry hesitates, not believing what he just saw under the table…when Hermione shifted her seating position, her skirt rode up onto her thighs, giving him a clear up-skirt view of sheer white knickers over short bushy pubes._

_He recovers just enough to nonchalantly respond to his best friend's greeting, and quickly sits down at the table…_

The memory faded to gray mist, leaving Snape confused. This was Potter's most vulnerable moment in his hormonally-charged life? Greengrass sends him nude photographs, the Veela squeezes his bum, and he rubs off the three Gryffindor chasers in their shower, but this is what he chose to guard? A flash of sheer Mudblood knickers?

Wanting to understand why, the lupine avatar gulped down the rest of the lanb, releasing one attached memory after another...

…_Potter gets an orgasmic rush as he recalls seeing Hermione's sheer white knickers…_

…_Potter gets an orgasmic rush as he imagines that Hermione hadn't been wearing knickers when she flashed him…._

…_Potter gets an orgasmic rush as he imagines Hermione's fingers buried in those sheer white knickers…_

…_Potter gets an orgasmic rush as he imagines crawling under the table and pushing those sheer white knickers to the side with his nose…_

On and on they went…fifteen different versions of the same scene, all formulated to help Potter rub one off.

Or rub fifteen off, to be more precise.

Snape was so focused on the images that he didn't notice Harry's avatar regain consciousness…which also meant that he didn't notice as Harry turned on Snape's avatar and tackled him to the ground.

"You fucking bastard!" the boy shouted. "You fucking bastard!"

Snape heard Potter curse over and over again, until he realized that they were both out of the constructed mindscape and back inside his office.

"POTTER!"

"What, you fucking bastard?"

"We are no longer within your mind," the Potions Master said with a smirk. "The _'you gave me permission to insult you' _excuse no longer holds."

"Oh." Harry said quietly. He then stared hard at Snape with eyes that would have been hurling knives, had they been so equipped.

Snape met Harry's stare head-on for a few seconds, before he shook his head and sneered, "You couldn't punch my nose if you _Engorgio_'d it."

"What did you just say?" Harry demanded.

"You heard me, Potter."

"But…you read my mind…without using your wand…or saying the incantation?"

Snape snorted. "Alarming, isn't it…when you broadcast your thoughts so loudly that I can read them that way?"

The Potions professor leaned back into his chair, crossed his arms over his chest, and grinned.

"I am now well within my rights to dock you those hundred points and issue those detentions," he gloated. "But perhaps…perhaps there would be a more lasting impact on your demeanor if I used what I just learned instead."

"You wouldn't dare," Harry hissed. "My godfather would have your head."

"He hasn't the reach from his little hidely hole, now…does he?" Snape asked. He waved towards the door and added, "You're dismissed, Potter."

Harry stared at the Slytherin Head of House for a few moments, broadcasting thoughts that involved far more than a punch to the nose. But as there seemed to be nothing more to be accomplished by staying within the office, he stood, and shuffled out into dungeon-level passageway.

"Be sure to say hello to Granger tonight," the professor called out through the opened doorway. "It might be the last time that she allows you within hearing range."

The bellowing laughter that punctuated Snape's taunts rang in Harry's ears as he walked down the hallway. He was certain that Snape would make good on the implied threat, and pass what he'd seen within Harry's mind to Draco Malfoy. And then Draco, or Pansy, or possibly every member of Slytherin house would humiliate Hermione in the morning with the news.

Unless…unless Harry beat Draco to it, and confessed to Hermione first.

The Boy-Who-Lusted-After-His-Best-Friend (and this was definitely not Ron, thank you very much) used the short amount of time that it took to walk to the Tower to summon up all of the Gryffindor courage that he could muster.

He was quite certain that he would need it.


	2. Chapter 2 14

**The Python Defense  
**A slightly schizophrenic, occasionally disturbing NC-17 H/Hr fanfic by canoncansodoff

**A/N: **Chapter 1 was revised 12 hours after first posting to replace the Y6 Quidditch team roster with the correct Year 5 version. Alicia and Angelina are still on the team. This is important, as I was unable to resist having Harry explain his "memories" to all of the witches involved, and not just Hermione. I should know better than to announce the number of chapters in a story before they're posted.

Please remember that this is a crack-fic, not to be taken too seriously.

**Disclaimer:** Not my characters, no money being made, etc., etc.

**oo00OO00oo**

**Chapter 2 1/4: A less-bawdy start to the middle part**

The vial of headache potion was already unstopped and waiting for Harry when he entered the Gryffindor Common Room.

"Hey, Hermione," he said softly, as he made his way through the crowded room to her place by the fire.

The Fifth-Year Prefect frowned at the sight of her best friend's appearance and shook her head.

"You look terrible, Harry," she said. "Drink up and sit down."

The raven-haired wizard snorted at her assertive behavior (which others far too often characterized as bossiness). He then smiled, took the offered pain-relief potion and replied, "Yes, Ma'am."

While Harry knocked back the potion, Hermione drew her wand and summoned a large fluffy cushion from a couch across the room.

"Hey!" complained Vicky Frobisher, who had been sitting on the other half of that couch.

"What…you aren't using it, are you?" Hermione challenged.

"Erm, no…go ahead," the young witch replied, too scared to challenge the authority of the Prefect, or to risk the wrath of the _Daily Prophet_'s whipping boy.

Hermione nodded, then turned her chair around to face the fire, so that she could make space for the cushion on the floor. Before returning to her seat, she opened the front of robes, revealing jeans-covered legs that straddled Harry's sides when he plopped down onto the floor in front of her.

Hermione pressed her knees against Harry's flanks and leaned down to hug him from behind. Her curly brown hair locks spilled over his shoulders, and her warm breath tickled his ear.

"Just as rough as the other lessons, then?" she asked.

Harry sighed, and nodded as Hermione sat back up and began to massage his temples with her fingertips.

"Worse, actually," he replied. "Snape added a taunting twist to the usual routine."

"How so?" Hermione asked, as she spread her fingers out and raked them backwards against his scalp.

"He…oh, Merlin that feels good," Harry moaned.

Hermione smiled, and repeated the slow front-to-back traverse through his hair. It was one of her guiltiest of pleasures…the close physical contact that Harry allowed her only because he only thought of her as a best friend. The scalp massages, the back rubs, the "Hermy hugs"…all things that he obviously thought were innocuous, but were actually (for her at least) knicker-drenching. And if it hadn't been for this "innocuous" contact during the whole Cho episode…she would have lost it for sure.

But that chapter in Harry's life was thankfully closed now…or at least Hermione prayed that it was closed. Holding her tongue and acting like the best friend that she was (and the best friend that Harry needed) had been the hardest thing in her life. To act as if nothing was wrong, even when her heart was breaking. It had taken Harry's interest in Cho to solidify her own feelings for her best friend…and her determination as well.

And to think that Harry and Ron still thought it coincidence that she had scheduled the Hogsmeade interview with Skeeter on Valentine's Day! She hadn't forced him to choose between Madame Puddlefoot's (and Cho) and the Hogshead (and her), but she was thrilled that he had made that choice. And even more thrilled that the choice had driven Cho off.

"_Good riddance,"_ she thought. "_Just need to wait a few more weeks so as to not be obvious when I jump Harry's bones..."_

She indulged herself with a few more passes through his adorably unruly raven locks before she rephrased the question.

"What did Snape do, Harry?"

The Boy-Who-Lived opened his eyes and scanned the room. It was only 2000 hours, and still rather crowded. Ron was in a corner, playing a game of chess with Seamus Finnegan. The Twins were huddling with Lee Jordan over what was likely their latest test product, and Ginny was on the other side of the room…staring back at him with a look that seemed to hover between confusion and concern.

Seeing Ginny reminded Harry that Hermione hadn't been the only victim in Snape's romp through his Loony Tunes mindscape. Her Grimmauld Place towel drop hadn't been something that he'd perved on at all…quite the opposite actually. He didn't really know why the memory even came to mind when Snape said he was going to pilfer his wanking fantasies…other than the fact that it was a generic display of female flesh.

"_More boyish then female flesh,"_ clarified a voice in the back of his head.

But the fact remained that Snape had seen Ginny's bum, due to Harry's failed Occlumency barriers.

His mood grew darker. What would Snape do with those other memories? How badly had he put all of the other witches at risk?

He closed his eyes and shook his head despondently.

"What's wrong, Harry?"

Harry knew what was wrong, but he couldn't tell Hermione right there. And the other witches deserved to hear Harry's confession/warning just as much as she did.

"Not here," he whispered.

Hermione nodded, and leaned forward to whisper in his ear.

"Maybe we should 'come and go' then?"

Harry opened his eyes at the electrifying phrase "_Maybe we should come." _But then he completed her sentence in his head, and realized that the Room of Requirement would be a perfect place to tell Hermione…and the other witches as well. And while he was at it, warn everyone in the DA that Snape could passively read minds with simple eye contact.

He nodded, and then whispered, "Have your galleon on you?"

"Always, Harry," Hermione replied.

"Set up an emergency DA meeting to start in a half hour's time, then."

Hermione arched an eyebrow, but trusted Harry enough not to question the need. She gave his shoulders a firm squeeze, then pulled the charmed coin from a pocket, and sent out the meeting notice using Harry's back for cover.

"All set," Hermione announced, as the warm vibration in his pocket confirmed that fact. The four Weasleys, Lee and Seamus all noticed as well…with varying degrees of stealth each checked their DA coins, and then gave Harry and Hermione a head nod in confirmation.

"Thanks, Hermione," Harry said, as he reached up, and gently squeezed a hand that was draped over his shoulder. "Think I'll use the time in between to wash up."

"Okay, Harry," she replied. "I'll wait for you to come back down."

Harry nodded, and then bolted up the stairs to his dormitory.

**oo00OO00oo**

It wasn't the first time that Harry had stood underneath the shower and relived holding Katie Bell's damp thong, or fantasized about sharing a wash-up with his female teammates. It certainly wasn't the first time he thought of Hermione's upskirt display in the library. The difference, of course, was Snape….the bastard who had turned these cherished images into potential blackmail material.

Harry was using the alone-time moments under the shower to go back over Snape's second attack, and to compile a mental list of actresses who had unknowingly performed for the perverted potions professor. He ignored the older women who had served as diversions…if Snape wanted to act on what he'd "seen" of Molly Weasley or Trelawney within the intentionally repulsive false memories, then so be it. Almost all of the other witches were in the DA, and could be warned off during the upcoming meeting…the exceptions were Fleur, Lisa Turpin and Daphne Greengrass.

Fleur's physical exposure was limited to what her swimming costume had revealed on the Second Task docks, and that was something that dozens of others had seen…and something that Ron still talked about with a wistfully lustful tone of voice. Lisa's situation was far more delicate, but Harry could ask Susan Bones to warn her (so long as Susan wasn't too busy to listen as she hexed Harry's bits off for peeping on them). But what to do about Daphne?

Harry had returned the photographs to the very embarrassed witch when he formally declined the marriage offer. She'd claimed that her father had forced her to pose for the pictures, and that they weren't uncommon attachments to a proposed contract, especially when the offer was made to such an eligible bachelor. Harry had sworn that he hadn't shown the pictures to anyone else, but now he'd managed to break that promise after the fact!

The Boy-Who-Lived sighed. The return of the contract and photographs had sparked the start of what had become a quasi-secret friendly relationship. That the friendship was so improbable allowed Harry to relax in her presence, in a way similar to the camaraderie that he shared with his female Quidditch teammates. He had even indirectly asked if Daphne and her friend Tracy Davis wanted to join his "DADA review group." She had appreciated the offer, but felt that it would be too dangerous for her in Slytherin House if they were found out.

So inviting Daphne to the DA meeting tonight was straight out, and he didn't dare travel back down to the dungeons to warn her in person. But still…it wasn't Daphne's fault, and there had to be something he could do.

An idea came to mind, and Harry called out, "Dobby?"

The house elf appeared instantly with a quiet pop. He took in his surroundings, and then looked up to Harry.

"Dobby is here, Harry Potter, Sir. What can Dobby be doing for the Great Harry Potter? He be needing some soap or a dry towel?"

Harry shook his head, sending splays of water droplets out from his wet unruly locks. "No thank you, Dobby…I was wondering if you be able to deliver a message for me to Daphne Greengrass…she's probably down in Slytherin House right now."

The house elf thought for a moment, and then nodded vigorously.

"Dobby be knowing where Harry Potter's Missy Greenie is. Dobby can do it!"

Harry gritted his teeth. "Erm, Dobby…she's not my Missy Greenie, okay? She's just a friend."

"Dobby understands, Mr. Harry Potter Sir. Dobby knows that the Great Harry Potter wants Harry Potter, Sir's Miss Grangy to be his First Missus."

"What?" Harry asked. "How did you know that, Dobby?"

Dobby gave Harry a quizzical look, as if the answer should be obvious.

"Dobby always be listening for the Great Harry Potter, Sir to call his name," he explained. "So Dobby always be hearing the Great Harry Potter, Sir call for his Miss Grangy, even when the Great Harry Potter, Sir puts a silencing spell on his bed curtains late at night so that he can calls out Miss Grangy's name while he rubs the Great Harry Potter, Sir's Wanking Wand."

Harry closed his eyes, and let out a deep sigh.

"So what's this about Hermione being my First Missus?"

Dobby's eyes lit up. "Dobby be knowing that there be lots of witches who wish being the Great Harry Potter Sirs Missus, and be calling Harry Potter Sir's name while they rub their kitties. Some be thinking how they be sharing the Great Harry Potter Sir's Wanking Wand."

"Oh, Merlin," Harry moaned.

"Something be wrong with what I do, Mr. Harry Potter, Sir?" Dobby asked timidly.

Harry shook his head, and squatted down to speak to the house elf face to face.

"No, Dobby, you did nothing wrong…I appreciate the fact that you always come when I call and ask for your help."

Dobby's big eyes grew even bigger as tears of joy fell, and he hugged Harry's wet leg with delight.

"Thank You for saying that, Mr. Harry Potter, Sir. You be the bestest most kindest wizard ever!"

"Well, I don't know about that," Harry admitted. "So about that message to Daphne Greengrass…can you tell her that I'm sorry that I can't come to see her myself, but that she should know that Snape knows about the contract and pictures?"

Dobby nodded with great vigor.

"Dobby goes right away and tells Miss Greenie that the Great Harry Potter Sir wishes he could see her, because the Nasty Bat-man does be knowing about the nudie pictures!"

"Well, I wouldn't phrase it quite like that…" Harry replied.

But it was too late, because Dobby had popped away before Harry had gotten a word out. He shook his head, grabbed the wand that was resting on a soap tray, and cast a _Tempus_ spell.

Given a ten minute transit time from Tower to Room of Requirement, and a magic-aided ninety seconds to dry-off and dress, he still had about five minutes to relax under the spray of hot water.

Or so he thought.

Harry was facing the shower room wall and had just swapped out his wand for a bar of soap, when a voice called out.

"Harry?"

A female's voice in the boy's shower room was instantly categorized by Harry's brain as "_Not Normal."_ And since situations that were "_Not Normal" _for Harry were more often than not life-threatening, his mind went on automatic pilot.

He dropped the soap, grabbed his wand, and twirled to face the intruder. It was only Dobby's voice that stopped a hex from being hurled.

"Don't be shooting, Harry Potter sir, this be Dobby and Miss Greenie!"

Harry squinted, and tried to put a face the voice that…a face that wasn't blurred by steam and myopia.

"Daphne?"

"Don't recognize me this way, Harry?" the witch asked with a smile in her voice.

"Don't have my glasses on," he replied. "Dobby what is going on?"

"Dobby be helping!" the house-elf chirped, as he levitated Harry's glasses onto his face. As the lenses fell in place, the two blurry figures resolved themselves into a towel-wearing house-elf, and a nightgown-wearing witch.

A sheer-black-silk-can-see-her-bits-underneath nightgown, to be more specific.

"Oh, Merlin, Daphne…what's that you're wearing?" he asked.

"Something more than you are," Daphne said with a sly smile. "Mind if you lower your wand, Harry? I don't have mine with me…as you should be able to clearly see."

Harry's first thought was that it would be impossible to conceal a weapon under the Slytherin's nightie.

Harry's second thought was that the sheer garment was, as she suggested, still more than what he was presently wearing.

"Yelp!" he cried, dropping his hands to cover his bits.

Daphne smiled. "Careful, Harry…wouldn't want you to hex a buttock off…or worse."

Dobby agreed, and with no sense of "personal space" walked up to Harry and pried his hands away from hiding his crotch.

"Miss Greenie be right, Mr. Harry Potter, Sir. The Great Harry Potter Sir must be acting like he's by his lonesome in the shower right now…so no hands or towels be covering bits."

"How can I act like I'm alone when she's standing right there?" Harry asked in frustration.

Dobby smiled. "Dobby be using his elf-magic on Miss Greenie, and making her indivisible."

Daphne snorted. "Well that's good to know…wouldn't want to be splinched."

"He meant invisible, didn't you Dobby?" Harry asked.

The house-elf nodded his head. "Only the Great Harry Potter Sir be hearing or seeing his Miss Greenie, but Dobby can only be doing this to one witch or wizard at a time, so…"

"So only I can see and hear Daphne, but everyone and still hear and see me?"

Dobby nodded, and then turned to Daphne.

"Miss Greenie be calling Dobby when she wants to be leaving," he stated, just before he popped away.

"Oh, shit!" Harry muttered, looking at the empty airspace where his friend had just been. "Sometimes, Dobby…."

"What's that Harry?" Daphne asked.

Harry looked up at the Slytherin witch and gasped. The steam and humidity of the shower room had made the thin fabric of her nightgown cling to her bare skin, and was now more transparent than translucent.

He shook his head, and turned away, trying to clear his head of the erotic image.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Daphne asked coyly. "You've seen far more of me than this?"

"Not in real life, though," he admitted.

"Like what you see, then, Harry?"

"Too much so, I'm afraid."

"Why is that, Harry?" she asked, as she walked behind him and pinched his bum.

"Daphne, you're making this impossible!" Harry closed his eyes tight and then asked, "What are you doing here?"

The Slytherin witch smiled, and shook her head. "Ask your house-elf, Harry. He popped up unannounced in my room…scared the daylights out of me, by the way…and said that you wanted to talk to me and was sorry that it couldn't be face to face. I said that I wished that I could speak to you face-to-face more often as well, and next thing you know he grabbed my hand and brought me here. Here being…Gryffindor Tower?"

Harry sighed. "Dobby is always looking out for my needs. Sometimes he's a little too eager to meet them."

"Your needs, Harry?" Daphne asked with interest. "You were standing here naked in the shower, and you needed me?"

"No, no….I mean, well….yes I did need to talk with you, but I didn't intend Dobby to pull you here in your…pajamas…and with me…"

"No worries, Harry," Daphne said brightly. "Makes us even in a way, doesn't it?"

Harry snorted.

"Harry?"

"Yeah, Daphne?"

"I won't mind if you open your eyes, and even if I did…my wand is back in the dungeons."

"I can't."

"Why is that, Harry?" she asked. "Soap in your eye?"

Harry snorted. "More like Snape in my head."

"What's that?"

"Snape," Harry hissed. "He's been teaching me to…did you know that he can read minds?"

"Sure, everybody in my house knows better than to look straight in his eyes. There's talk about him being a fully-trained _Legilimens _as well."

"Well, the talk is true, I'm afraid," said Harry. "And that's why I needed to warn you. Snape got into my head and saw the memory of me getting that marriage contract. And seeing the pictures of you."

"Oh," she said softly. There was a pause, and then she asked, "But why does that mean you need to keep your eyes shut?"

"Because the bloody wanker rummaged through all of the memories that I…that get me excited, and, well…I don't want him seeing you the way you are right now the next time he makes a run at my brain."

Daphne chuckled. "Oh, Harry, always the brave protective Gryffindor protecting a lady's honor." She reached out and touched Harry's arm. "Would it help if I told you that we're fairly certain that our Head of House can monitor _every _room in our House?"

"Really?" Harry asked. "You mean he can sneak peeks of you and the other witches taking showers, or getting dressed, or….."

"Yeah," she replied. "It's something that we've learned to live with. The few that have complained to Dumbledore over the years have paid the price for speaking out…not really healthy to upset a Potions Master who has access to your room, and your belongings…"

"That's outrageous!"

"It's how it is, Harry," Daphne replied. "I just try not to think of it…worse off for the boys, of course."

"What?" Harry asked.

With eyes closed, he couldn't see the mock look of concern on Daphne's face.

"Oh my, did I just let out a House secret?"

"Oh Merlin, please tell that you didn't…it'll make me worry even more the next time he makes a go at me."

"Okay, so I won't tell you that I didn't," the Slytherin witch said with a smile.

"Oy, Potter!" called out a male voice.

"Oh shit, that's Ron!" Harry hissed.

"Guess we'll see of your little friend's magic is up to snuff," Daphne said. "Might want to remove your glasses, though."

"Thanks," Harry hissed, yanking them from his face.

"What in Merlin's name are you doing, Harry?" Ron asked, sticking his head into the shower room. "Hermione's going to bust a blood vessel if you don't get back down to the Common Room."

"Guess he really can't see me," Daphne said from behind Harry. "Wonder if he can hear me…HEY WEASEL! I WANT HARRY POTTER'S WAND UP MY SLEEVE!"

"Wha…"

"Something wrong, mate?" Ron asked.

"Guess that he can't hear me either," Daphne cooed. She walked right behind Harry and wrapped her arms around him. She raked her fingernails across his chest, nibbled on his ear, and whispered. "But you can see me, and hear me, and feel me, Harry….can't you?"

"Uh-huh," he moaned.

"What's that, Harry?"

"Erm…nothing…I'm just trying to clean off the slime I feel every time that I have a Remedial Potions les….son…"

"Slime, Harry?" Daphne asked with a giggle. "Like your shags all muddly and messy, then?"

Ron frowned as Harry tried to ignore the banter, and the invisible hands that made it hard to talk.

"Erm…right, then," said the confused red-headed wizard.

"Oh, Harry?" Daphne cooed. "Want to try an experiment? I'm wondering…if I'm invisible, and I go down on you, would Ron think that your willie disappeared?"

The only answer Harry thought he could safely provide was to reach back and give Daphne's bum a slap.

"Hey!" Daphne chirped.

"You just hear something, mate?" Ron asked.

"Erm, no…did you?

"Yeah, it sounded like you just hit something when you waved your hand."

"Interesting," said Daphne. "He can't hear or see me, but he heard the slapping noise…makes me want to try that other experiment even more…"

When Harry felt Daphne slip down onto her knees and give his bum a love-bite, he decided that drastic action was needed. He pulled her hands away, and jumped out of her grasp.

"Come back here, Harry!" Daphne pouted.

He shook his head and waved her away.

"You sure that you're okay, mate?" Ron asked.

"No," Harry admitted. "But who would be, after one of Snape's lessons."

"Good point," Ron replied. "Still…looks like you were swatting at something invisible…"

All of a sudden, Ron grew a wide smile on his face.

"Putting your invisibility cloak to use, Harry?"

"What?" Harry asked.

"What?" asked Daphne. "I didn't know you had one of those, Potter?"

Ron waggled his eyebrows. "Brilliant idea, mate." He then looked behind Harry and said, "Plan on following behind us to the meeting, Cho?"

"What?" Harry demanded.

"What?" demanded Daphne? "I didn't know you were shagging Cho Chang, Potter!"

"I'm not!" Harry shouted.

Ron cocked his head, looking for a glimpse of something he didn't see.

"Erm, sure mate. Whatever you say…course I'd be more worried if I didn't know that Ginny was already downstairs."

"Shagging his sister, too?" asked Daphne.

"No!" Harry shouted.

Ron chuckled, and gave a glance back towards the shower.

"I'd shake your hand and congratulate you, mate…but I wouldn't want to get any of that Snape slime on me, would I?"

Harry rolled his eyes and grabbed a towel.

"I'll be downstairs in a few minutes Ron."

Ron smiled, gave him a wink and a nudge, and walked out of the lav.

Once he was gone, Harry turned on Daphne.

"You little minx, you!" he chided.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Daphne replied. "Come back here, and let me make it up to you."

Harry sighed, and shook his head.

"I'm going to assume that this was cosmic payback for me seeing those pictures," he said. "I really have liked getting to know, Daphne, but if you are thinking that there might be something between us…"

Daphne chuckled, and stood up.

"Throwing me away like a wet dishrag, Harry?"

"Well, you are rather wet, right now," he said with a smirk. "Look, you are dead-drop gorgeous, and a great friend, and any bloke would be thrilled to see you like this…"

"But, Harry?"

The Boy-Who-Live snorted. "Yeah, there's a but there. And right now I've got to go and warn some of those butts that Snape saw them in my head."

Daphne smiled. "Oh, my, good luck on that."

"Thanks."

"So let me know how it goes, okay?" she asked. "If things don't work out with her…"

"I'm not seeing Cho, Daphne!"

"Did I _cough-Granger-cough_ say any specific witch's name, Harry?" she teased. "I was just saying that if you've still got your bits after tonight, and really do have an invisibility cloak…not that your house-elf couldn't provide direct room-to-room transport again…."

"Harry!" a witch shouted from the base of the dormitory's stairs. "Time to go!"

Daphne snorted at the sound of Hermione Granger's voice. She stepped up to Harry, planted a short but tender kiss on the tip of his nose, and said, "Me too, I guess…good luck with her, Harry."

Harry nodded, said thanks, and rushed dress before Hermione stormed up the stairs.

**oo00OO00oo**

Harry looked nervously towards the group of DA members who had hastily assembled within the Room of Requirement. Ron looked befuddled, wondering how in Merlin's name Cho Chang had managed to beat them to the Seventh Floor, but that was more or less a normal facial expression for him, and nobody noticed.

The Boy-Who-Lived began by thanking everyone for coming on short notice, and said that he wouldn't have done it had it not been important. He then waited for someone like Zacharias Smith to bitch and moan, and was therefore pleasantly surprised when his introduction was met was silent attention.

With a nervous finger run through his messy black hair, he continued on, and broke the news that Hogwarts's Potion Master had the power to read a person's surface thoughts without needing to cast a spell. More than half of the students didn't know that you could read minds even with the right spell, so Harry took the time to explain _Legilimency_. He emphasized that holding eye contact with a victim made access that much easier, and suggested always trying to avoid looking Snape or Dumbledore in the eyes.

While the information was relatively well received, some questioned the urgency of its delivery.

"So that's it then?" asked Seamus. "Best not to look Snape in the eyes? What's with the rush to deliver that bit of obvious advice?"

"Erm, well…there's more to warn about," Harry admitted. He looked down at the floor, until Hermione reached over and squeezed his hand for support.

"There's a special way to defend yourself not just from the eye contact attack, but from the much stronger _Legilimens_ spell," he stated. "It's called Occlumency, and Snape has been teaching it to me since Christmas hols."

"Really?" asked Neville. "So that's really what you were doing instead of taking Remedial Potions lessons?"

"Right in one, Nev," Harry said with a thin smile.

"Why the need for secrecy?" asked Cho Chang.

"Erm, well…the Headmaster thought it best if we stayed quiet about this training," said Harry. He then added, somewhat evasively, "Headmaster has his reasons, I imagine."

"So that's the extra bit of news?" asked Seamus.

"No, not at all," replied Harry. "The thing is, the only way to test whether you're able to block somebody from reading your thoughts is …is to have somebody try to read your thoughts."

"You mean you let Snape rummage about in your head?" asked Ernie Macmillan.

"Didn't have much say in the matter, and it's certainly not by my choice," Harry said curtly.

"So he's seen memories or thoughts that you didn't want him to see, Harry?" Luna asked quietly.

Harry turned to the Ravenclaw witch and nodded. "I'm afraid so, Luna. You all know how much Snape hates me, and he hasn't been shy about forcing me to relive painful memories, or times when I've been weak and powerless."

"Fucking…"

"Bastard!" Fred and George swore in stereo.

Harry chuckled and shook his head. "You can say that again. I've gotten used to it, and actually managed to make headway in keeping him out of my head, but tonight…tonight I angered him, and he retaliated. Instead of stealing the normal types of memories that were embarrassing for me, he gathered memories that were much more embarrassing for others."

"Others, Harry?" Hermione asked. "Like your friends?"

The Boy-Who-Lived nodded. "He was rather ruthless…anything that he might be able to humiliate me with, or use to alienate me from my friends and classmates."

"So what did he get, Harry?" Ron asked.

"Well…that's rather personal, don't you think?"

Ron scowled. "Not if it includes that time that you walked in on me in the lav when I was…"

The youngest male Weasley stopped himself when he heard the snickering.

Harry couldn't stop the corner of his lips to curl upwards.

"No Ron," he replied. "Snape didn't pull _that _memory from me."

"Oh, right…never mind," Ron replied with a blush.

A deep breath was taken before Harry explained more fully.

"Snape focused his efforts on the part of my brain that thinks about…well…."

"Sex?" asked Katie Bell.

"Erm….yeah…sex."

"So that'd be almost all of your noggin, eh, Harry?" Katie joked.

"Well, I don't know about that," Harry replied sullenly. "He sort of tricked me, you see, into worrying about…things…that I've seen...things that I found exciting. Things that I..."

"Get a stiffy thinking about?" chirped Fred.

Harry closed his eyes tight, and nodded slightly.

"I'm so sorry, guys...I tried to stop him, but I just couldn't..."

"Erm...Harry?" asked Ron.

The despondent Gryffindor reopened his eyes.

"Yes?"

"When you just apologized to 'you guys' about having randy thoughts…were you really talking to just the blokes, or was it...what's that word, Hermione?"

"Generic?"

"Yeah, generic...that's the one." Ron replied.

Harry couldn't help but to chuckle. "Yes Ron, it was a generic 'you guys'."

"Whew...had me worried there for a moment, mate."

Many of the female DA members laughed at Ron's worries. But it was a strange kind of laughter...a mixture, really. Some of it was nervous laughter, while others was more…hopeful?

Harry wasn't certain. But he was certain that what he needed to confess didn't need to be shared with those it didn't affect.

"So…since I disappointed Snape by not having any wanking fantasies involving Ron, or any of you other guys…and I mean wizard guys…there's no need for you to hang around to hear the dirty details."

"Are you sure, about that Harry?" asked Colin Creevey.

"Yes, Colin, I'm certain."

"Oh, poo!" the boy whined.

"Hey, that's my line!" Luna complained.

Hermione took a step forward from Harry's side and said, "So, boys…as Harry says, he's quite certain that your presence is no longer required...and I'm sure all of the witches in the room share those feelings."

The other witches in the room did indeed share that opinion, and ordered the boys to shove off. They went willingly, for the most part, and all made sure to shake Harry's hand and offer their condolences.

"Sucks to be you right now, mate," Dean said grimly.

"Never have envied your lot in life, Harry," Neville added, as he looked at the collection of witches. "But now I really don't."

George stepped up to Harry next, and pulled him into a corner of the room. Once their privacy was assured, he handed Harry a small bit of knitting.

"Fred and I were planning on rounding up some test subjects later this week," George explained. "But…you might want to give this a go tonight."

Harry looked down at the object and furrowed his eyebrows. It looked like a miniature knit cap, with an open end that was roughly two inches in diameter.

"What is it, George?"

"We've adapted our Headless Hats for the protection of your _other _head," the Twin whispered.

"My other head?" Harry asked. "You mean this little hat will make my bits disappear if I slip it onto my willie?"

"Exactly," George grinned.

"Why would I want to put anything you two have invented anywhere near my bits?"

George snorted. "It's perfectly safe, Harry…I've tested it myself."

It was Harry's turn to snort. "So you've already…worn…this thing, and now want me to pop it on?"

"Harry…would I do that to you? We've applied auto-cleaning charms, of course…a resizing spell as well, in case the fit is a little too…well, in your case, we'll assume the fit would be too snug."

"Erm…I'll take that as a complement…I guess," Harry hissed cautiously. "What I don't get is how making my John Thomas disappear would help me any?"

"Well, Mate, the girls won't be able to hex off your bits if they can't see them, right?"

Harry winced, chuckled, and shook his head all at the same time.

"Thanks for the thought," he replied. "But I'm afraid that I've taught the DA enough area-effect spells to make accurate targeting unnecessary."

"Ah…good point," the red-haired Twin said with a smirk. "We'll be sure you get a proper wake, then…"

George looked over his shoulder and back towards the other. He spotted his brother, who was having a hushed conversation with Padma Patil, and called out, "Won't we Fred?"

"Won't we what, O Brother of mine?"

"Ensure a properly inebriated send-off should Harry not survive the night."

"Of course we will," Fred replied with a smile, just as the Ravenclaw witch passed a small money pouch into his hand. He gave Padma a handshake, then strolled over to continue the conversation from closer in.

Harry nodded back towards Padma.

"What was that about?"

"Just a financial transaction," Fred said with a smile.

George matched his brother's grin. "Which pool did she put money down on…the day Harry and…a certain witch…shag, or the next day that he's forced to spend a night in the Infirmary?"

"Neither," Fred replied. "She asked for odds on a side bet."

"What did she want odds on?" Harry asked warily.

"For the likelihood that you and that witch shag _and_ you are admitted to the Infirmary, all on the same night."

Harry rolled his eyes, while George's eyes lit up.

"Does it have to be his girlfriend that puts him in Poppy's care?" the Twin asked.

Fred shook his head and smirked. "No, she was afraid that one of the others might beat her to it."

George nodded sagely. "Smart witch, that Padma…how about the reason for medicinal care?"

"Left that one open, as well," Fred snorted. "She couldn't decide whether it'd be hexed bits or exhausted bits."

Fred and George shared a laugh as they shook Harry's hand and wished him luck under either scenario. As they headed for the door, Harry noticed that Ron was still there, and was the last wizard in the room besides himself.

Ron turned to Hermione and asked, "Want to walk back to the Tower with me, Hermione?"

"What?"

"Walk back to the Tower with me?" Ron repeated. "I was hoping you could look over my Transfiguration essay. Harry probably needs help as well, and this way you can write mine while he's still busy here with the witches."

"Ronald Weasley, of all the cheek!"

"What?" he asked.

"Hermione needs to stay here, Ron," Harry said softly.

It was Ron's turn to raise his voice.

"What did you say?"

Harry glanced over towards Hermione, whose eyes were wide within an expression that he couldn't decipher. He turned back to Ron and repeated, "I need Hermione to stay here with the other witches."

"Whatever for, mate?"

Harry's mind raced at the question, and he stood there speechless. He certainly didn't want to have Hermione learn of his feelings for her this way. But he didn't need to, as Hermione stepped in with eyes that were now narrow and dangerous looking.

"Harry asked for all of the female DA members to stay back, Ron, and as you so eloquently noted last year, I am a girl."

"Yes, but you're….you're Hermione!"

The bushy-haired witch rolled her eyes, and decided to nip the nascent argument in the bud, just to get rid of the git.

"Think, Ron," she said icily. "Harry needs me to stay…I was the one that paced in front of the door. That means that I have to be the last one to leave."

"Oh," said the red-haired wizard. He visibly relaxed and added, "Guess that makes sense."

"I'm glad that I have your approval, Ronald," Hermione said sternly. "And don't wait on my help with that essay…it won't be forthcoming."

"Erm…okay," Ron said, as he walked out the door. "No need to get your knickers in a twist."

"Oh!" Hermione hissed, once the door closed.

"Sorry about that, Hermione," said Harry. He wanted to tell her that there was more than one reason for her to stay back, but didn't have the nerve to do so, even now that Ron was gone from the audience.

"It's not your fault that he is such a git," she replied, wrapping an arm around his waist.

Harry nodded, and turned back towards the other female DA members. Their faces showed the range of emotions that he'd detected before in their laughter…many were nervous, some curious, and one or two seemed excited by the possibilities.

Unfortunately, it wasn't the right one or two that seemed eager to learn that they had starred in Harry's dirty dreams.

"So," he said nervously, "I'm guessing that at least a few of you might have a good idea of why you are here."

Katie Bell shared a look with her fellow Gryffindor Chasers and the three all broke out into a fit of giggles and high-fives. This caused Harry to blush and Hermione's eyebrows to rise up towards her hairline.

"I don't think I want to know that that's all about," she said.

"Good point," Harry said quickly. "Look, this is really embarrassing for me, and probably will be for some of you. Wish there were a way that this could be done with as little embarrassment as possible."

"Oh, Harry, darling," Lavender purred, in an obviously over-the-top embellishment. "I'd be more thrilled then embarrassed if you thought of me that way."

"Oh, Harry, darling….me too!" cooed Katie as she winked at him.

"As long as we're all here…maybe we should help Harry create some more lusty memories for Snape to steal," added Angelina.

"You aren't making this any easier for me, you know," Harry complained, as the Chasers broke out in more laughter.

"Oh, Harry…if we couldn't laugh about it, we'd have to cry," Katie replied.

Hermione sensed that Harry was losing control of the situation, so she volunteered herself to take charge.

"I've got a suggestion," she stated. "We'll ask the Room to change into two separate rooms. Harry will be in one of these rooms, and each of us will meet with him one at a time to talk privately about…whatever needs talking about. That way, nobody has to be embarrassed more than is necessary."

"Good idea," said Lavender. "That way, we won't feel embarrassed if we're _not _the star in at least one of Harry's wet dreams!"

As Hermione had noted to Ron, she had been the one to do the pacing in front of the Room's doorway, and therefore in charge of requesting any modifications to its setup. She herded everyone towards the Room's entrance, told them to all close their eyes to avoid the vertigo, and then imagined what she now truly needed.

Well, to be honest…her first preference would have been a cozy little love nest with a big bed that Harry could shag her senseless on, but she could only dream of him seeing her as more than a best friend, and as that best friend, she had Harry's needs foremost.

The Room seemed to understand that subtle difference.

When the group opened their eyes, they found themselves in a slightly smaller version of the comfortable sitting room they'd first entered, with an opened doorway now built into the opposite wall. They collectively stepped forward, and peered inside this door, finding a small area with a lit fireplace, two chairs, and a small side table in between. Harry's eyes zoomed in on the large box of Kleenex that sat on top of this table, and wondered whether the Room reckoned it'd be needed for crying eyes or his bloodied nose.

Probably both, he decided.

"Any particular order, Harry?" Hermione asked.

He glanced around at the different faces, and then shook his head.

"Best it be some random order, or else you might be trying to figure out patterns that might not be there."

Hermione smiled. "You know me too well, don't you Harry?"

He returned her smile, and forgot for a few seconds that there were others in the room. He grabbed her hands and said, "And I wouldn't want it any other way."

"Hem, Hem!" growled Lavender, doing her best Umbridge impersonation. The sound was more than enough to cause Harry to drop his grip on Hermione's hand, and to take a few steps back.

"Erm…since you need to leave the room last, I guess that you'll need to go last, then?" he asked.

"That makes sense," Hermione replied. She then spied a cup sitting on a table next to her that contained small stones bearing the necessary quantity of unique numbers.

"Guess the Room thought it a good idea as well," she added with a smile, as she picked up the cup and raised it to eye level.

"Go on in, Harry…I'll have everyone else draw for numbers, and mind the door.

"Thanks, Hermione," he said with a smile. He then entered the smaller room, closed the door, and waited nervously by the box of Kleenex.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Python Defense  
**A slightly schizophrenic, occasionally disturbing NC-17 H/Hr fanfic by canoncansodoff

**A/N: **Please remember that this is a crack-fic, not to be taken too seriously. Thanks to grenouille for looking at an earlier version of this chapter.

**Disclaimer:** Not my characters, no money being made, etc., etc.

**oo00OO00oo**

**Chapter 2 1/2: A flirty middle part of the middle section**

There were certain conversations with certain female DA members that Harry was dreading, and would have rather not needed to hold. One of those conversations involved the witch that Fate chose to walk first through the door.

Cho Chang approached Harry with her eyes cast downwards. He didn't take it as a good sign that she reached for the box of Kleenex before taking a seat.

"Hi, Harry," she said in a soft voice.

"Hi Cho," he replied.

There was an awkward pause, that Harry eventually summoned enough courage to break.

"I'm sorry, Cho," he began, "but Snape did manage to catch a glimpse of you during his attack."

"He did?" she asked, with a voice full of hope. "But…it was only a glimpse?"

"Yeah…only lasted a few seconds, actually."

"Was that….was that because you got so angry you forced him back before he could see more of me?" she asked.

Harry bit his lip. "Erm…no, it was because that was how long that wet kiss lasted before hols."

"Oh," she said quietly, as her eyes began to water. "Nothing about Valentine's Day, then?"

"Erm…sorry," Harry replied. "That was a bit of a fia…well, it really didn't end well, did it?"

Cho sniffed, and nodded her head. "Yeah, could've gone better…not the sort of memory that you'd call up when you were…well, not a useful thought in certain circumstances."

"I'm glad that you see it that way," Harry replied.

"So was it only memories that Snape was pilfering?" Cho asked.

"Erm…no, a mixture of memories and…well, I guess you could call it wishful thinking, actually."

"Could you also call them fantasies, Harry?"

"Erm…yeah."

"And I wasn't…_sniff_…I wasn't in any of these fantasies, Harry?"

"Not in any of the ones that Snape chased after and caught," he admitted.

The Ravenclaw's eyes flashed towards Harry. "So you do have fantasies that involve me, then?"

Harry closed his eyes. "Yes, there were a few, actually…and I'd rather leave it at that."

The black-haired witch nodded. "_Were_ a few Harry?"

"Yes."

"So why weren't they in the mix?"

"Dunno," he replied. "They might have been some of the ones that I saved…couldn't tell…"

Cho's eyes began to water again. "But the kiss…the kiss did?"

Harry nodded. "Anything that Snape saw, I was forced to relive."

"Why the kiss, Harry?"

"Well, it was the first time that I kissed a girl in real life…on the lips, that is."

"Does that mean that you've kissed a girl in…other…_sniff_…places?"

A confused look crossed Harry's face. "Yeah…isn't kissing each cheek the way that Fleur and the other Beauxbatons students do it?"

The Ravenclaw witch thought for a moment, and then her eyes went wide. "What about what I heard your Chasers giggling about outside? There wasn't any kissing then?"

Harry did a bit of mental recall that caused his cheeks to blush deep red. He wanted to explain the differences between memories and "enhanced" memories, but Cho didn't give him a chance. She burst into tears and let out an anguished cry at the sight of Harry's flushed cheeks, grabbed the box of Kleenex, and ran out of the room.

"Hey Cho, wait…I'm sorry…it's just…."

But Cho didn't look back.

"Oh, bugger," Harry moaned. "Might need that box of Kleenex for some of the others girls."

The Room of Requirement agreed with this assessment, and popped a fresh box down onto the side table.

"Great…Just great," Harry lamented.

Marietta Edgecombe then walked through the door, with eyes that were focused on something in the other room.

"What did you just do to my friend, Harry Potter?" she hissed.

"Nothing! Honest!" he protested. Harry then added under his breath, "Which might have been the problem."

When Marietta kept glancing on either side of the door, Harry called out, "Listen, Marietta…you're probably not going to be surprised when I say that you weren't in any of the dreams or memories that Snape stole from me. Why don't we leave it at that, so that you can go be with Cho?"

The Ravenclaw gave Harry a dirty look, then nodded her head and disappeared.

Hermione then popped her head in.

"Everything alright, Harry?" she asked.

"No, but everything is going about as well as expected."

"Want to take a break, then?"

Harry sighed. "No, let's keep going…want to get this done tonight."

Hermione smiled in sympathy, and disappeared from the doorway.

**oo00OO00oo**

A sigh of relief came from Harry's lips as Luna Lovegood walked into the door.

"Oh, thank Merlin, I'm glad that you're next," he said. "Come have a seat."

"Okay, Harry," she replied. The blonde-haired witch then walked straight up and sat down on his lap.

"Erm…Luna, wouldn't you be more comfortable in the other chair?"

"No," she replied airily. Luna then wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him into a hug.

"Erm...thanks, Luna," he said, reaching up to pull her arms away from him.

"No problem, Harry," she said. "You needed a hug, and since Hermione is minding the door…"

"What?"

"Oh, Harry," Luna giggled. "So you need to talk with me about the faerie hunt?"

"Yeah…sorry about that. It was one of the memories that I really tried to hold onto, but…"

"No worries, Harry," the witch said, as she planted a quick kiss on his forehead. "It wouldn't be the first time that Snape has seen me that way."

"Really?" asked Harry. His thoughts clouded, and he tensed up. "Snape hasn't…forced himself on you, has he?"

Luna giggled. "No, Harry, not at all… he's seen me a few times when I've needed to air out my robes…you should try it sometimes, Harry…it really cuts down on the wrackspurt attacks."

"Erm…I'll think about it Luna," said Harry.

The Ravenclaw smiled, and then asked, "So our faerie hunt is one of your masturbatory memories too, huh?"

Harry choked. "You mean that…you use that to…"

"Of course," said Luna, matter-of-factly. "Your penis is very large, after all."

"Erm….thanks, Luna."

"You're welcome, Harry."

Harry snorted, thinking how strange the conversation had become. He then frowned, and said, "But I'm afraid that Snape saw more than you running naked through the woods, though."

Luna's eyes grew large, and she squirmed a bit in Harry's lap.

"So you've had those same dreams too?"

"Erm…which dreams?"

"The ones where you organize a co-ed naked dueling club (TM), and I invent a naked broom ride to rub off on while you spell spank me and witches collect your sweat?"

"No Luna, I can't say that I've ever had that dream," Harry replied, as he nervously shifted in his seat. "I was talking about the faerie hunt."

"Oh," said Luna. "Did I get attacked by wrackspurts that made me forget that you put your very large penis inside me at the end of the run?"

"No," Harry said stridently. "I was talking about the, erm…the loo break."

"What?"

"You know," Harry said nervously. "In the middle of the Forest, when I said that it was so cold out there that my pee would probably freeze before it hit the ground? You said that we should find out, so you squatted right in front of me and let loose."

Luna thought for a moment, and then nodded.

"Sure, Harry…what about it?"

"Well that was part of my memory."

"Oh," replied the Ravenclaw witch. A sly smile then crossed her face, and she asked, "So you liked watching me pee, Harry?"

"Erm…well, it was…erm, interesting, and certainly memorable, but…"

"It's okay, Harry, you wouldn't be the only guy into that sort of thing."

"Into…pee?" Harry asked. "You think that I…no, Luna, it's not like…well, I am _not _into that sort of thing."

"If you say so, Harry," Luna replied brightly. "So am I running with you when you use this memory to masturbate, or someone else?"

"What?"

"I would understand, of course…not that uncommon to alter a memory and swap out one witch's head with another's. I do it all the time."

"Erm…no, Luna. The memory that Snape saw was all you…don't think I could imagine anyone else running naked through the Forest with me."

"I suppose so…Hermione isn't much of a runner, is she?"

"Exactly. But….erm, why would you think that?"

"Why would I think that you would rather it had been Hermione that was running naked with you in the woods, and that it was Hermione who was masturbating when she thought about your very large penis bouncing up and down when you ran?"

"Erm….yes, or…no…or…dunno," Harry replied, now completely confused. Trying to dig himself out of a hole with a summary, he then asked, "So…we're good, then?"

Luna nodded. "Unless you want me to hang around for a three-way…but I suppose you'd first want some time alone with Hermione, right?"

"What?"

"Bye, Harry," Luna chirped, as she planted another kiss on his forehead and jumped off of his lap.

Harry's mind raced over what Luna had just jokingly offered. It slowed down a bit to take in the associated images.

"Harry?"

The Boy-Who-Lived was jostled from his thoughts, and looked up. Luna was still in the room, with her hand on the doorknob and a bright smile on her face.

"Something else, Luna?" he asked.

"Guess that sort of thing excites you more than my pee does, huh?"

"What's that?"

"A three-way with Hermione and me?"

"Erm, what makes you say that?"

"The bulge in your trousers."

Harry looked down at his lap, and quickly crossed his legs. It was a painful action, but less embarrassing than any other alternative.

"Thanks for the help, Luna."

"Anytime, Harry," she replied. "Would you like Hermione to jump the queue so that she could help you take care of your tent?"

"Help me with…no, I don't think so."

"Ah, so you want to take care of that yourself," she replied. "Well, good thing that the Kleenex is within reach, then."

Harry laughed, despite himself.

"Just send in the next witch, Luna…and thanks again for being such a good friend. I needed that laugh."

The blonde-haired witch's eyes went wide, and watered up.

Harry frowned.

"Did I say something wrong, Luna?"

"Am I really your friend, Harry?" she asked meekly.

He tilted his head. "Of course you are, Luna."

"Oh, Harry!" Luna cried, as she rushed back towards him.

Harry grimaced with the expectation that she'd jump back onto his lap, but she seemed sensitive to this fear, and stood by the side of his chair when she leaned over and kissed him on the lips.

It was another one of those soggy kisses.

"What's wrong, Luna? Why are you crying?"

"Because I'm so happy, Harry!" she replied. She then grabbed the box of Kleenex and ran out of the room.

Harry shook his head in confusion, and then turned towards the empty side table.

"A little help here?" he asked.

A new box of Kleenex materialized.

"Thank you," he snarked, using a nasally sing-song voice.

**oo00OO00oo**

"Hey, Harry," Lavender Brown purred, as she sauntered into the room.

"Hey, Lavender…have a seat," Harry nervously replied.

His housemate said "Thanks," and walked up to the two chairs without bothering to close the door. She frowned at the furniture arrangement, and pulled the empty seat around until it was right in front of Harry's, and close enough for their knees to touch when she sat down.

Hermione's head popped into the still-opened door.

"Do you want the door closed?" she asked, frowning at her dorm mate's seating adjustments.

"Yeah, thanks," Harry replied, giving Hermione a glance over Lavender's shoulders.

Hermione held his gaze for a few seconds, and divined what he was thinking almost as easily as Snape could have. She smiled, rolled her eyes, and mouthed the words, "_Have fun!"_

Harry shook his head, and let out a sigh that was cut short when Lavender grabbed his knee.

"So, Harry…tell me all of the ways that you've ravished me in your mind," she purred. "And don't leave out the smutty details!"

The Boy-Who-Lived choked on some spittle.

"Erm…well, actually, Lavender…I didn't have any memories or fantasies that involved you."

Lavender snorted, smiled, and flashed him a wink as she unbuttoned the top button of her jumper.

"Want to fix that deficiency right now, then?" she asked coyly, as a cleavage-revealing second button popped free.

"Erm, Lavender, I appreciate the interest, and the offer, but…"

"But somebody else comes to mind when you milk your monkey?"

Harry choked, coughed, and wheezed in response. He finally was able to stammer out, "I…I guess that's one way of putting it."

"Thought so," the witch said with a smile. Lavender then grabbed Harry's knee, leaned over and gave him a surprisingly chaste peck on the lips. She then stood, and before leaving asked,

"Still…if you could hold off for a few days…I've got most of next week blocked out in the betting pool."

"What?"

"Yes, I know, rather pointless of me to hope for that," Lavender sighed, as she opened the door.

**oo00OO00oo**

Talks with the next three witches were rather straight forward, and served as a bit of a breather for Harry.

Hannah Abbott was fairly certain that she wouldn't have starred in one of Harry's wank-worthy memories or fantasies, and was relieved when he confirmed that fact. She did thank Harry for telling her this in private, and left him by saying that Ernie would be glad for the lack of competition.

Padma and Parvati then insisted on sharing a conference, saying that they always shared everything. Parvati was a little disappointed that more hadn't been made within Harry's mind of the Yule Ball date. This gave Harry opportunity to finally apologize for his behavior the year previous. He then apologized to Padma on Ron's behalf, which was appreciated, as the Ravenclaw held out no hopes that the git would do so on his own.

**oo00OO00oo**

The pleasant feelings of having made things right with the Patil twins flew out the door when Susan Bones walked in next. This was another one of those discussions that Harry had been dreading, and the first words out of her mouth didn't bode well.

"Harry Potter, I think that I should be rather cross with you!" she chided, as she marched up to his chair and placed her hands on her curvaceous hips.

"Erm…why…why exactly is that?" he replied nervously.

"Hannah told me that you didn't have any pervy thoughts about her."

"Erm, so…"

"Well, why not?" Susan demanded.

"What?"

"Why wouldn't you lust after my best friend?"

"Erm…"

"She isn't pretty enough for you?"

"No, not at all…I think that she's really cute, it's just that…"

"Oh, so you're one of those boys who won't give a girl a second look unless she has huge baps?"

"No, actually…"

"Her bum then…not curvy enough?"

"Well…"

"So it's the hair color then?" asked Susan. "Let me guess…Snape saw me in one of your memories, didn't he?"

"Erm, well…I'm sorry, but…yes."

"Knew it," Susan said dismissively. "So Ginny was right when she said that Potter men only fancy redheads."

"No, actually…she wasn't," Harry replied. "Why would you think that?"

"Well your mum was red-headed, wasn't she?"

"Yeah? Well, Ron has red hair too…doesn't mean that I fancy him, does it?"

Harry paused, and then quickly added, "Not that there's anything wrong with same sex relationships…"

Susan cocked her head in thought.

"So you've perved on me, but not Hannah…and it's not because my baps are bigger, or bum less boyish, or that I have red hair. You don't know me any more than you know her, so….what in Morgana's name do I have that she doesn't?"

Harry looked at Susan blankly, rather shocked by the verbal assault. The only thing that he could think to respond with was the truth.

"A girlfriend?"

"What?"

"You asked what you had that she didn't," Harry explained.

"But…Hannah and I are friends…and she has lots of other girlfriends."

"Girlfriends-girlfriends," Harry replied with frustration. "The kind of girlfriend that a girl snogs in the Owlery."

Susan stared at Harry for a moment, until the _Lumos_ spell lit up above her head.

"Oh, shit!" she muttered.

"Erm, yeah…exactly," Harry replied.

**oo00OO00oo**

Susan was shocked when Harry admitted to her that he'd caught her and Lisa in the Owlery that past Fall, saying that they had tried so hard to keep their relationship a secret. Any anger that she might have felt about the fact that he hadn't left as soon as he spied them was overwhelmed with more shock, when Harry admitted that it had been one of the memories he'd tried hardest to protect from Snape. She asked why, and Harry told her that it was mainly because he didn't want Snape to know their secret. But then he also had to admit that he held that memory so close because it was one of the sexiest things that he'd ever seen. Susan snorted, and asked if Harry had "seen" that memory more than once. She was flattered by his positive response, even if she didn't think of wizards "that way." Susan left him with a promise to warn Lisa, and to ask if she might consider turning him into an "exception sandwich."

Katie Bell was next in line, and she promptly invited Angelina and Alicia into the room. This earned Harry another raised eyebrow from Hermione, to which he shrugged his shoulders. Hermione's mouth then flew open in shock when she spotted the bulge that Susan's sandwich suggestion had created, but she didn't say anything as she closed the door.

Harry's teammates didn't let him off so easily.

**oo00OO00oo**

"So Suzie got your wand wound up, stud?" asked Alicia.

"Hush," Harry admonished. "You know that I don't kiss and tell, sweetheart," Harry then added with a smile, falling easily into the kind of flirty banter with the opposite sex that he'd only risk with his Quidditch teammates.

"So how many dirty movies did we star in, Harry?" Angelina asked, as she sat down on the chair opposite of Harry's.

"Erm…two, I'm afraid," he admitted. "I tried my best to keep them from him, really I did."

"I'm sure you did," Alicia said, as she casually sat down on Angelina's lap.

Harry's eyes bugged out when he saw this, and then saw a gleam in Katie's eyes. She allowed no time for embarrassment as he did an emergency "adjustment" to his lap so that she could mirror Alicia's actions with causing him pain.

"Comfortable?" asked Angelina.

Katie smiled, and wiggled her bum.

"I'd say that it's a little bumpy," she snarked. "But I'd be lying…there's nothing little about it."

"Katie!" Harry whined.

"Oh relax, Harry dear," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. "You know that we tease you because we love you."

"And because you still owe us for that time back in Third Year," added Alicia with a wink.

"Erm…yeah, about that…"

"You do know that we left the locker room door open on purpose, right?" asked Angelina.

"What?" Harry asked. "You wanted me to see you three in the shower?"

Angelina shrugged. "We were a little disappointed after the poker game…"

"More like a little horny…" said Katie.

"Speak for yourself, Katie," Angelina said. "I was _really_ horny that night, and…well we all decided that after the next practice we would see if we could all fit under that tent in your boxers."

"You mean that you wanted me to join you?"

"Join us, go down on us, shag us…just about anything other than run away from us, like you did," Katie lamented.

Harry gulped. "Erm…yeah, about that…so like I said, you three were involved in a couple of my sheep…"

"Sheep, Harry? I thought getting involved with sheep was a guy thing?"

"No, no…that's not what I meant," Harry complained. "You see, I was trying to defend my memories and fantasies by pretending that they were sheep. I was a sheepdog guarding the flock, and Snape was a coyote."

"A what?"

"A coyote," Harry explained. "It's like a wolf, only smaller…find them in the States."

"Why a coyote?" Katie asked.

"It was one of my cousin's favorite cartoons," he explained. "Snape was clueless...he thought that he was a wolf, too. Doesn't matter, actually…what matters is that I couldn't hold the mental construction together well enough to guard my thoughts, and one of the scenes that Snape saw was a straight-up memory of the strip poker game that we played."

"Straight-up memory?" asked Alicia. "You make it sound as if the other memory was enhanced, somehow."

When Harry cheeks turned bright red, Katie's eyes lit up.

"Oh, Harry, you bad boy…you inserted us into a wanking fantasy!"

"No, no, it's not like that," Harry protested.

"So you were inserting into us during your wanking fantasy?"

"No, no…it begins with me peeking into your shower, just as it really happened."

"But you don't run away in your fantasy, do you?" Angelina asked.

Harry shook his head.

"No, in this version you three pull me into the shower and give me a choice. Either I explain to McGonagall what I was doing being a Peeping Tom, or…"

"Or we take the law into our own hands and give you a spanking?" Katie asked.

"No!" Harry protested.

"You punish us for leaving the door open and spank us, instead?"

"Katie!"

"I agree," said Alicia. "You can tell us your fantasies later, Katie. I'm much more interested in Harry's wanking fantasy."

"Hey," said Harry. "I never said that I wanked to this fantasy!"

"Does that mean that you haven't?"

"Erm…no, not necessarily," Harry admitted.

Katie squirmed in delight, which didn't help the bumpiness "problem."

"So in this fantasy we give you a choice, then," Alicia said impatiently. "Either you turn yourself in, or…"

"Or…erm…or…"

"Come on, Harry!" said Alicia.

"I'd rather that Harry comes on us," giggled Katie.

Harry sighed. "Alright…I had to be your soap boy. There…happy?"

"No, not nearly enough details," grinned Katie. "So you had to soap each of us?"

"Yes."

"Soap _all_ of each of us?"

"Yes, Katie," Harry admitted, burying his face with embarrassment into her sleeve.

"And just how long do you rub our wet naked bodies with your strong muscular hands, and stroke us with those long fingers of yours?"

"Erm…until you come."

"Until we come clean, or until we come with mind-shattering orgasms that make us shiver, shake and go weak in the knees?"

Harry responded with a groan that resonated along Katie's robe sleeve. In response, she pulled back her arm, and raised his chin with her fingers so that their eyes met.

"Do we come clean, Harry, or do we come multiple times?"

"More like the second," Harry said, closing his eyes.

"Ooh, I like this version much better than reality," Alicia cooed. "And then what happens?"

Their former Seeker turned towards Alicia, opened his eyes, and admitted, "Erm, then…I soap myself."

"What's that Harry? I can't hear you."

Harry closed his eyes, sighed, and said much more clearly, "Katie says that I'm still dirty, and volunteers to be my soap girl."

"So Angelina and I don't want to be your soap witches too, Harry?" pouted Alicia.

"Well, yes…you do," he admitted. "I suggest that you do some nude soap wrestling and fight for it, but you decide instead to play 'rock-parchment-wand' to see who gets to clean my wand. And the thing is, you all know each other so well that every time you try, it's a tie. So you keep pounding your fists in your hands, and each time you do that your breasts jiggle and sway real sexily, and that gets me so excited that I can't wait and…and I start to clean my wand myself."

"Oh," said Katie, with a soft moan.

"Oh is right," said Alicia, as her eyes dilated and she squirmed in Angelina's lap.

"So then what happens, Harry?" Angelina asked huskily.

"Well….this is where the fantasy starts to match up with reality," Harry admitted.

"So you're wanking both ways?" asked Katie.

Harry nodded. "In the fantasy, you three turn and notice what I'm doing. And you forget the game because you're sort of…mesmerized by what you're seeing, and…"

"And what, Harry?" asked Angelina.

"And then you three can't help yourselves, either, and you begin to play with yourselves as you watch me. And I'm watching you, and we watch each other, and then…"

There was a pause in the narrative.

"Oh, Morgana, Harry…and then what?" Katie demanded.

Harry snorted.

"And then I clean my pajamas with a _Scourgify_ charm."

There was another pregnant pause, before the three witches opened their eyes, saw the states that they were all in, and burst out laughing.

"What?" asked Harry. "Look, I'm sorry, but I'm a guy, and I fancy girls, and…."

Katie placed a finger on Harry's lips. "Relax, Harry…we're not laughing at you, we're laughing at ourselves."

"Why's that?"

"Because our knickers probably need a cleaning charm after that story," Alicia smirked.

"Speak for yourself, Alicia," Katie protested.

"What…you didn't soak Harry's lap with that story?"

"No. I didn't wear knickers today."

"Oh, Merlin…too much information, Katie!"

"More like too much fabric between us, Harry," the Chaser snarked, as she pulled his head to her chest.

"Merlin, Harry, that was intense!" Angelina admitted.

"Yeah, well…I'm just sorry that I couldn't keep it all away from Snape," said Harry.

"That is a definite drawback," agreed Alicia.

"There's always hope that Daphne is right about him," offered Harry.

"What's that, Harry?"

"Oh, one of the Slytherin witches thinks that Snape is gay. If she's right, then at least he won't be using my wanking memory to wank."

"That is a disturbing thought," Katie shuttered.

"What, that Snape's gay, or that he wanks?"

"Either one."

Angelina snorted. "That might explain things, though."

"What things?" Harry asked.

"Well…just that there's always been a few rumors running around about the Headmaster…why he never married. But if he was gay, and so was Snape, then…"

"Stop!' Harry shouted. "And pass the fucking brain bleach!"

Alicia laughed. "Guess it does spoil that little moment that we were sharing, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, about that," Harry said, after he caught his breath. "I'm really sorry that I was using you three that way."

"No worries, Harry," Katie replied. "Not like we aren't guilty of the same thing."

"What?"

Alicia smiled. "I'd tell Katie to speak for herself, but she knows damn well that what she said applies to all three of us."

"Applies to the whole bloody Gryffindor girl's dorm," added Angelina.

"Right…you're having me on," Harry replied.

"Don't think so," said Katie.

"Be that as it may," said Harry. "I just thought you should know that I value you all as my friends and teammates, and that I hope that my hormones haven't messed that up."

Katie stared at Harry for a moment, then smiled and tussled his hair.

"Of course it won't change things," she replied. "I just said that we're in the same boat, didn't I? How about taking turns…Alicia, what about sharing that fantasy involving you, Harry, and a tin of chocolate sauce?"

Alicia and Harry shouted, "Katie!" in stereo.

"Or maybe later," Katie said with a grin.

Harry let out a deep sigh. "Thanks, guys…you three are the best."

"Of course we are," said Angelina. "Just wish that you would let us prove that fact."

"Yeah, Harry," said Katie. "Just because Umbridge banned you from playing Quidditch doesn't mean that you're banned from the Quidditch locker rooms."

"Or shower rooms," Alicia said with a wink.

"Erm, thanks for the offer," Harry replied.

"Uh-oh, girls, I hear a 'but' coming," warned Angelina.

"What are you trying to tell us, Harry?" pouted Katie. "That we've been cast out of your wanking fantasies by another witch?"

Harry's eyes bulged, and he failed to reply with anything more than a stammer.

Alicia sighed, stood up, and pulled Katie from Harry's lap.

"C'mon, girlfriend, you already know the answer to that question."

"What do you mean?" Harry worried. In a much smaller voice he added, "Is it that obvious?"

Angelina stood and nodded. "Yeah, it is."

Harry closed his eyes and sighed. "I do hope that we are talking about the same girl."

"I'm sure that we are, Harry," Katie replied.

"Erm, yeah, on that point," said Harry. He then fumbled in his pocket and retrieved a small package. "I should give this back to you Katie…wouldn't feel right holding on to them."

Katie gave Harry a sad smile, then nodded and reached for the package. Inside was the thong that had been lost during the strip poker game.

"Oh look, Katie…now you've got something to wear," Angelina commented.

"A sponge might be more practical at this point," added Alicia with a smile.

"Shut it, you two," said Katie. "I think that it's rather sweet of Harry." She pulled him up from his chair and into a hug.

"Thanks, Harry," she whispered into her ear. "You treat her right, or Merlin help me, I'll wrap this thong around your neck and strangle you."

The young wizard laughed. "Not a bad way to go, but…you'd have to get in line behind me and her father."

Alicia and Angelina insisted that they get hugs from Harry as well. Angelia grabbed one of his hands as she broke her embrace.

"I think we all knew that this day would come," she said, clearing a mock tear from her eye. "Our little wizard has all grown-up, and it's time for him to spread his wings."

"More like it's time for him to spread her legs," Katie snarked.

"Hush," Angelina said with a smile. "It's almost like you're graduating."

"Oh, please, Angelina," Harry protested.

"No, no…it's true," she replied. "And I think I speak on behalf of Katie and Alicia when I say that this calls for a graduation present."

"Absolutely," said Katie. She turned towards the door and asked, "So how much shag time do you think we'd have before Hermione get suspicious?"

"Katie!" Harry whined.

"Harry," Angelina continued, "I offer as a graduation present the following bit of advice."

"What's that Captain?"

Angelina gave Harry a wide smile that provided a brilliant contrast between her pearly white teeth and chocolate-colored skin. She then leaned forward, winked, and cooed, "Harem."

Harry lost his eyebrows to his hairline as the other two Chasers giggled and turned this "advice" into a chant.

"Harem! Harem! Harem!"

The three Chasers made no effort to quiet their chanting as they opened the door and left the room. This garnered some strong responses from Hermione and Ginny Weasley, who were now the only two witches left outside the door. Hermione saw the smile on Harry's lips, assumed that this was all a joke, and joined in.

"Harem! Harem! Harem!"

Katie snorted, gave Hermione a big hug, and said, "Oh, Hermione…I'm so glad that you agree…it's so much easier when the Primary approves."

This produced one last round of raucous laughter as the three witches left the room.


	4. Chapter 4

**The Python Defense  
**A bawdy and slightly disturbing H/Hr crack fic by canoncansodoff

**A/N**: This is a crack-fic. Relax and have fun. Bring some bleach, just in case. Thanks to grenouille and the folks at HermansTumbledweeds for their advice on this chapter.

**Disclaimer:** Not my characters, no money being made, etc., etc.

**oo00OO00oo**

**Chapter 2 ¾: A happy, smutty end to the middle (once Ginny exits)**

Ginny stared at the bushy-haired gatekeeper as she walked through the doorway.

"So, Hermione…now that it's my turn, you don't need to hold my Extendable Ear in protective custody, right?"

The Fifth-Year Prefect rolled her eyes, and handed over Ginny's personal version of the Twin's magical eavesdropping device.

Harry frowned. "You weren't trying to listen in on the other conversations, were you Ginny?"

"No, of course not," she replied. "Not that she believed me," waving towards Hermione. "Made me hand it over before Cho even walked in."

Harry snorted at the second eye roll that Hermione performed behind Ginny's back.

The red-haired witch sat down next to Harry, smiled, and forgave him in advance for all of the times that he's used her naked body within his smutty dreams.

She wasn't quite as forgiving when Harry told her that the only thing that Snape had been able to find within his "smutty memories" involving her was the bum-baring towel-drop.

"What do you mean you don't remember seeing anything other than my bum?" Ginny demanded. "How could you forget the time that you saw my bits when I was naked in bed?"

Harry frowned. "When did that happen?"

"Oh, right," Ginny whined. "As if you could just forget what you yelled while I was in the middle of my third orgasm."

"Humor me, then," Harry asked. "What did I yell when you were in the middle of your third orgasm?"

Ginny's lips broke into a sly grin. "You said, 'Quit humping me!'."

Harry coughed violently. "I…_cough_…you were…_cough_…humping me in bed?"

"Erm...yeah, sort off," she explained. "It was actually my Harry Potter plushy that I had between my legs, but you failed to appreciate the difference."

"Oh." Harry gasped. He then added, "And you're certain that this happened?"

Ginny shrugged. "Of course, Harry…not something a girl would forget, don't you think? The way that you stood right there and watched me with your mouth wide open, you were so excited…"

"Could have just as easily been shock," Harry replied. "So what made me walk into your room uninvited like that?"

Ginny giggled. "What makes you think that you weren't invited…or that you found me in my room?"

"You mean you were…can't decide what's crazier," Harry muttered. "You wanting me to see you doing that, or you doing that in my bed."

"It was both," Ginny offered.

Harry shook his head and moaned. "So when did this supposedly happen?"

"Last Summer, just before your trial," Ginny replied. "Are you sure that you don't remember it, Harry?"

"Quite certain."

"Hmmm…there was that bludger hit to the head that you took during Quidditch try-outs last fall…maybe that did something."

"Perhaps."

"Maybe if I re-enact it, that would jog your memory?" the red-haired witch offered.

"No, thanks…that's…quite alright," Harry stammered. A different thought then came to mind that wasn't any less disturbing, but might provide some answers. He stood up from his chair, and started to walk towards the door.

"Where are you going, Harry?" asked Ginny.

"Need to ask Hermione a question."

"But what would she know about this?"

"Hush!" Harry hissed, as he opened the door.

"No, I'm serious," Ginny whined.

Harry thought about replying with his godfather's standard line, but didn't want Ginny to think that he valued bantering with her.

"Right," he therefore replied.

When he poked his head through the doorway, Harry spied Hermione sitting on a couch pushed up against the opposite wall…about as far away from his position as possible. She had been staring at the floor with her hands worrying themselves, but when she heard the door open her eyes flashed towards it and her hands froze in place.

"Need something, Harry?" she quickly asked.

The Boy-Who-Lived got most of an "I might" response out before his voice faltered at Ginny's touch.

"We might," the red-haired witch corrected, placing a protective arm around Harry's waist.

Harry gave Ginny a stern look as he wiggled out of her grasp and entered the front room.

"Ginny here thinks that I should have remembered something that I can't for the life of me remember," he said.

"_And would rather have it stay that way,"_ he thought.

"Yes, Harry?" Hermione asked. "Is there something I can do to help?"

"Yeah, actually, there might just be," he replied, as he crossed the room and sat next to the bushy-haired witch.

Ginny was rather upset that there wasn't room for her to squeeze in on Harry's other side, and took it out on the chair that she flopped down upon. There was a loud scraping noise as she scooted the chair across the floor, until it was physically touching the shared love seat.

Harry frowned at this action, even as he tried to ignore it. He turned to Hermione and asked, "Do you remember about a month ago, when I gave you a small package and asked you to keep it safe for me?"

Hermione nodded. "Of course, Harry."

"I know that it's getting late, but could you get it for me…or maybe allow Dobby to fetch it for you from the Tower?"

Hermione cocked her head, then shook it as she reached for her ever-present book bag.

"No need to do that, Harry…I've got it here with me."

"Really?" asked Harry, arching an eyebrow.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders as she rummaged through her rucksack. "I threw it into the moke skin pouch that you gave me for Christmas," she explained.

"Oh, that makes sense," Harry replied with a smile.

Ginny's eyes narrowed, but she held herself from saying anything about how nice a gift that was (totally ignoring the fact that he had given her a "friendship" bracelet that had easily cost twice as much). She didn't shy away, however, from a little snarkiness.

"Isn't it a little dangerous keeping something that he asked you to protect in your bag?"

"Not really," Hermione replied with a shrug. "The pouch is charmed so that only I can open it, and I added a charm that makes it easier for me to find it if it goes missing, or if somebody takes it."

"Also hard for anyone else to mistake it for their pouch," Harry said with a smile.

Hermione stopped her search for a moment, so that she could share that smile.

"Except maybe you, huh?" she asked, with eyes that sparkled.

The reason for the sparkling eye portion of this response became clear to Ginny once Hermione retrieved the fist-sized pouch…Harry had paid extra to have one of Colin's wizarding pictures embedded into the inside of the flap. Ginny scowled as she watched the picture animate.

_Harry and Hermione's faces are shown in profile, as they stand side-by-side. Large fluffy snowflakes fall, and the two try to catch them on the tips of their tongues. Hermione succeeds straight away, but Harry isn't as quick. When she turns and teases him about his seeker skills, he gets even by leaning over and licking a snowflake off from her nose. They both laugh, and then the wizarding photograph loops back to the start._

"Something wrong, Ginny?" Harry asked, as he raised an eyebrow.

"Erm, no…not at all," she replied, looking down towards her hands, which were clenched in her lap. The bracelet that Harry had given her, engraved "_To my kid sister Ginny, from Harry", _hung limply from her wrist.

"Here we go," Hermione stated, as she pulled the small wooden box from the pouch.

"Thanks," Harry said, as he took the box and cast an opening charm on it.

Inside were six small stoppered bottles, filled with strands of gray mist.

"What are they, Harry?" Ginny asked.

"Memories."

"Memories of what?"

"I don't know," Harry replied with a shrug. "Other then the fact that they are things that I didn't want to remember."

"How does that work, exactly?" asked Ginny.

"The Headmaster owns a rune-covered stone basin called a pensieve," Harry explained. "It's a storage device of sorts that he's loaned to Snape. Before every one of my Remedial Potions lessons, Snape pulls certain memories out of his brain and sticks them in the bowl, just in case something were to happen and I were to reverse his _Legilimens_ attack and enter his head."

"So if you pull the memory out of your head, you no longer remember what it contains?"

"That's the idea," Harry said with a nod. "I've watched him do this enough times to figure out how to do it myself. Didn't have a basin to store them in, so I used these little bottles instead, one per memory."

"You think that one of the things that Ginny thinks you should remember might be inside one of these bottles?"

Harry shrugged. "It's a possibility. I also could have been _Obliviated_."

"How would you know?" asked Ginny.

Harry bit his lower lip in thought. "There's two ways, I think. I could just open the vials and shepherd the memory strings back inside my brain…but that would sort of defeat the whole purpose of me pulling them in the first place."

"But what's the alternative?" asked Hermione.

"Get hold of Dumbledore's pensieve," Harry replied. "Except that I'm certain that it's still in Snape's office, and I don't fancy running back down there right now."

"I'll go, Harry," Hermione offered.

The Boy-Who-Lived shook his head. "Too dangerous."

"But she's the brightest witch in her generation, Harry," Ginny noted. "And a Prefect as well."

"Yes, but still…wouldn't want to risk it. Especially since I've got a better idea…Dobby?"

Harry's hyper-eager friend appeared with a pop.

"Yes, Mister Harry Potter, Sir?" Dobby asked. "Does the Great Harry Potter, Sir be wanting Dobby to be fetching Miss Greenie again?"

"Erm, no Dobby," Harry said quickly, casting a nervous glance towards an intrigued bushy-haired witch. He paid no mind to Ginny's reaction…not that there was one, as the younger witch hadn't spent nearly enough time around Harry's diminutive friend to understand his patois.

"Do you remember when you fetched some gillyweed from the nasty Bat-Man's office?"

"Harry!" Hermione admonished.

"What?" Harry said with a grin. "It's Dobby's description…not mine!"

"Yes, Mr. Harry Potter, Sir," the House-Elf said brightly. "Dobby remembers."

"Do you think that you could still get into the nasty Bat-Man's office?"

Dobby thought for a moment, and then nodded. "Nasty Bat-Man be putting extra-nasty protections on his supply closet, but Dobby be being able to get to the rest of the office."

"That's great," Harry said. "Is the nasty Bat-Man in his office right now?"

Dobby thought, and then shook his head. "The nasty Bat-Man be…be doing nasty things to himself in his quarters."

Harry grimaced. "Right, that's good then…well, it's not, but…would you be willing to do another favor for me, Dobby?"

The House-Elf nodded with a predictable level of vigor.

"Thanks, Dobby… in nasty Bat-Man's office, there be being a stone basin that belongs to the Headmaster…would Dobby be thinking that he would be able to be bringing that basin here?"

Dobby closed his eyes and thought, as his small body trembled.

"_Would Dobby be thinking,_, Harry?" asked Hermione.

"Sssh!" Harry hissed.

Dobby disappeared before he replied to Harry one way or the other. A few minutes later, he returned with the pensieve balanced perilously atop his head. Harry snatched it away and set the stone object down onto a low table before the weight toppled the poor House-Elf over.

"Thanks, Dobby…you're the best," Harry replied.

The House-Elf blushed, jumped up and down, and said all of the predictable things about how great Harry was.

"So now what do we do?" Ginny asked.

Harry frowned. "Good question, actually…you two could dive into each memory and experience it for yourselves, except…"

"Except what?"

"Except they might be something terrible…something that I wouldn't want you two to experience either. Or…something terribly embarrassing that I wouldn't want you to see."

"Like what?"

"Erm, dunno…maybe me getting caught…well, you know, in the shower…or in my bed…"

"I'll take that risk," Ginny said with a grin.

"Ginny!" Hermione scolded.

"Dobby be being able to help, if Mister Harry Potter, Sir if the Great Harry Potter, Sir be wanting it," announced the House-Elf.

Harry looked at Dobby for a moment, and then reluctantly smiled.

"You're able to view memories in pensieves, Dobby?"

The House-Elf nodded.

"Thanks, Dobby, that'd be a big help," Harry replied. "But I want you to be safe, okay…I just want you to view each memory for a few seconds, and then come back out and tell us who is in the memory."

"Dobby be able to help the Great Harry Potter Sir that way!" the House-Elf announced.

After Hermione's concern was noted, and Dobby was warned once again not to stay too long within each memory, Harry dumped the first vial into the bowl. Dobby stood up on top of the table, and leaned his head into the bowl. His legs were so short that Harry had to grab them to keep Dobby from falling completely into the basin.

Dobby pulled his head out five seconds after he dived into the memory.

"This be being a nasty memory of the Great Harry Potter, Sir's, nasty Aunt that he be blowing up. She be playing with her dog."

"What's so nasty about a woman playing with her dog?" Ginny asked.

"I don't even want to think about the possibilities," Harry decided with a shudder. He quickly scooped that memory out of the bowl, and replaced it with another.

Dobby dived in.

"This be being a memory of the Great Harry Potter, Sir and his Weasley."

Ginny smiled broadly, and started to say something, but Harry cut her off.

"_Which_ Weasley, Dobby?"

"The Weasley with the red-hair," the House-Elf replied.

"We all have red hair," Ginny said with exasperation. "Was it me?"

Dobby shook his head. "It be being The Great Harry Potter Sir in his bedroom with his not-as-bestest friend Ronald."

Harry's face paled.

"Oh, no," he moaned. "Don't tell me that…."

"Relax, Harry," Hermione said, grabbing hold of his arm. "Maybe it's not what you think?"

"I hope that it isn't," Harry replied. "Don't think I want to…but…fuck!"

"Language, Harry," Hermione said reflexively. She then turned to Dobby and quietly asked, "Dobby…are Harry and Ron...touching each other...in the memory?"

Dobby shook his head, eliciting a sigh of relief from Harry.

"Were they watching each other as they touched themselves, Dobby?"

"Ginny!" Hermione scolded.

Dobby was shaking his head before she had the chance to tell him not to answer Ginny's question.

"Wonder what was wrong, then?" Harry said.

"Would you…maybe Dobby could whisper what he saw to me?" Hermione offered.

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah, go ahead…I'll trust you'll know what to do with what Dobby saw."

The House-Elf nodded, jumped over onto Hermione's lap, and whispered into the witch's ear. What he said made her eyes bulge, her cheeks flush deep red, and her lips to forget their recent admonishment.

"No fucking way!" she exclaimed.

"Language!" Harry teased.

"No fuck….Harry, I can't believe it's what Dobby thinks he saw Ron doing…I've got to see this for myself."

"Is it…are you sure…."

"Look, if it's just as awful for me to see what was going on as it was for you, you could always teach me how to extract the memory of me seeing it, right?"

Harry frowned. "What did Dobby think he saw Ron doing?"

Hermione looked at Harry, with cheeks puffed out as if she were about to burst. She then looked at Ginny, and they did.

Amongst long stretches of uncontrollable laughter, Hermione gasped out the following words.

"Harry!" _laugh-laugh-laugh _Walked in! _laugh-laugh-laugh_ "Ron!" _laugh-laugh-laugh_ "Shagging!" _laugh-laugh-laugh_ "Shepherd's pie!"

It took Ginny much longer to sort out the sentence structure then Harry. So by the time she demanded to see for herself, he'd already scooped up the memory from the bowl.

"We'll take that as read and move on, I think." he stated.

Fate was enjoying the scene so much that it ensured that the memory that Harry and Ginny were searching for was the last that Dobby screened. Before getting there, and having Dobby pronounce that "Harry Potter Sir's Weasel Fan-Girly be shagging her dolly!" they learned that Harry had tried to distance himself from memories involving Molly and Arthur, his Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, and Colin together with his very own Harry Potter doll.

As soon as the memory review was complete, Harry asked Dobby to return the pensieve to Snape's office, and then to bring three more stoppered vials to the Room of Requirement. When Ginny asked why, Harry explained that he had no desire to remember being told by Dobby what he had tried to forget, and that he planned on extracting the memory of the entire memory of his discussion with Ginny from his head. He then added that he thought Hermione and Ginny might want to do the same.

Hermione quickly agreed, more for Harry's benefit then her own…if given a choice she would have held onto the thought of Ron plowing a pie.

Ginny, however, flat out refused, and became quite indignant when Harry asked her why. She claimed that he just didn't understand, and began to cry. The sobs grew stronger when she asked if Snape had seen more explicit memories involving other witches, and Harry reluctantly said yes. He then summoned the box of Kleenex from the other room, and gave it to her, only to have it thrown back in his face when he refused to provide specifics about which witches were doing what with him.

For her finale, Ginny called Harry an "ingrateful cad" (sic), slapped his face, reached down for the box of Kleenex, and ran out of the Room.

Harry scowled, but said nothing as Ginny stormed out of the door.

"I don't think that I'll ever understand witches," he lamented, once the door slammed shut.

Hermione sighed, and wrapped a protective arm around Harry's shoulder.

"I wouldn't say that, Harry," she offered. "There might be a big difference between understanding Ginny, and understanding women in general."

"Perhaps," he replied, as he leaned his head against Hermione's shoulder. "But Lavender and Cho…they didn't slap me but their attitudes weren't much different…here I was thinking that the ones to be upset were the ones that Snape saw starkers…the ones that I think about when I…but they seemed more upset that he didn't see me see them that way!"

"Perhaps they're disappointed that you don't think of them in romantic terms," Hermione offered.

"Or maybe there's a difference between fan-girls and friends," Harry replied.

Hermione nodded, and pulled Harry up to his feet. "Well, at least it's over, right?" she asked. "Let's head down to the kitchens, and we can commiserate over hot cocoa?"

Harry looked at Hermione and snorted.

"What makes you think that it's over, Hermione?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well," Harry said with a sly grin that he couldn't stop from appearing on his face. "As you told Ron…you are a girl, right?"

"Sure, but I just was so angry…with…him…"

The words trailed off as Harry squeezed her hand and began to lead her into the other room.

"Harry?"

"Yes, Hermione?"

"So…it wasn't just because I needed to be last to leave?"

Harry stopped at the door's threshold, popped his head inside, and frowned.

"Harry? What's wrong?"

"Did you ask the Room to change things up a bit?"

"No, why?"

"The chairs have been replaced by a love seat, and the Kleenex is gone."

Hermione frowned, and popped her head inside the doorway.

"I didn't ask for the Room to change the furniture," she stated. "As for the Kleenex, well…Ginny took the box with her, didn't she?"

"Well yes…but so did Cho and Luna. Each time the Room gave me a replacement."

Hermione smiled a hopeful smile.

"So…maybe the Room doesn't think that I'll be upset with what you need to tell me?" she asked.

Harry thought for a moment, and then nodded.

"I like that better then the other explanation."

"What's that, Harry?"

"That an AK doesn't draw blood."

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows at Harry, and imagined a dozen different reasons why Harry might think what he needed to share would provoke her to such violence. They all seemed rather ridiculous, but she wasn't about to say so. But it was also clear that she'd have to do something to convince Harry of that fact.

Harry caught his breath when Hermione pulled her wand from her sleeve.

"Not going to wait for the confession to hex me?" he asked.

Hermione snorted as she flipped the wand in her hand and offered it to him butt-end first.

"Oh ye of little faith," she said with a small smile. "Why don't you take it for safekeeping, and come sit down with me?"

"No…Hermione if I can't trust you then who can I trust?"

"Just take it Harry."

Harry sighed, nodded, and gripped the offered piece of vine wood and dragon heartstring.

He startled at the warmth that flowed into his hand wherever there was skin contact.

"What's wrong?" Hermione quickly asked.

"Erm, nothing," Harry lied, as he pocketed the wand.

Hermione stared at him for a moment, and then said, "Come on, then…let's have a seat."

Harry nodded, and hoped that Hermione couldn't read the smutty thought that had just come into his head.

"So maybe her wand being warm, like it liked me…maybe it's a sign that we won't need Kleenex?" he thought. "But it can't be everything that I could hope for, or else the Room would have sent me a box of condoms instead."

"_Oh ye of little faith indeed, Chosen One_," the Room of Requirement thought to itself. "_No need for those muggle things when your lover has been dreaming of this night and been on the Contraceptive Potion since Valentine's Day!"_

**oo00OO00oo**

Harry sat down on the love seat quietly, and fumbled for an explanation about what Snape saw that didn't make it seem like he had been perving on his best friend. Even though that is exactly what he'd been doing.

Hermione sat by his side and waited for Harry to say something…but then her own nerves got the best of her, and she blurted out just to start the conversation.

"So, Harry…are you certain that Snape can read our thoughts using a wandless, nonverbal spell?"

The question jolted the Boy-Who-Lived from his musings.

"Erm, yeah…I was sitting there, thinking about punching the git in the face, and next thing I know, Snape looked into my eyes, and said that I wouldn't be capable of laying a finger on his nose, even if I _Engorgio_'ed it first."

Hermione frowned.

"You mean he knew that you were thinking right then?"

Harry nodded. "I don't think he meant to be so candid, but apparently, if you're good enough, or your target's shields are horrid enough…not only can you sort through memories like they were in a file cabinet, but if you can look into their eyes, then you can see in real time what somebody is thinking."

"And he can do this just by staring into your eyes?" Hermione hissed.

"Yeah, that's what he claimed…and, well…he seemed to be able to back that claim up."

Hermione groaned. "That's really horrible," she replied. "There ought to be a law against that sort of invasion of privacy."

"I'm sure that there is," Harry said with a sigh. "Have to admit, though, it would be dead useful in a duel."

"You'd know what spell an opponent was going to cast before they even cast it?"

Harry nodded, and leaned his head against Hermione's shoulder, just as he had done in the other room. It was an innocent motion…something that he done lots of times before. But this time….this time the contact sent shivers through Hermione's body. Tingly shivers…the kind that she often got an instant before she gave herself an orgasm.

There was a simple explanation for this, of course. The possibility that their Professor of Potions could secretly read minds without need of wand or word had caused her to think back to all of the times that she'd caught herself daydreaming in his class. Well, not daydreaming, actually…more like she allowed her thoughts to wander, while she was performing repetitive menial tasks, like stirring, or cutting ingredients.

This past year, her wandering thoughts had almost always headed straight towards Harry, her cauldron partner.

Many times, those wandering thoughts grabbed Harry by the robes and snogged the daylights out of him. And sometimes….well, sometimes they decided to duck underneath his robes and bury themselves in his crotch.

And then there was just last week…when she caught herself wondering what it'd be like to be bent naked over Snape's desk, and taken by Harry from behind.

She was, you see, quite smitten by her best friend and Potions partner. Secretly head over heels in love with him, actually. And she was now deathly afraid that she'd been broadcasting her feelings for Harry in Snape's classroom, for him to pick up whenever he made eye contact with her.

And there had been many, many times, when she'd made eye contact with Severus Snape.

The head-to-toe shudder that this realization caused prompted Harry to twist his neck and look back at Hermione.

"You okay?"

"Yes," she replied. "Well, no, actually…just worrying and wondering if Snape has made any secret trips through my frontal lobes."

"I know what you mean," Harry replied. "No doubt he has a made a perverse habit out of mind snooping."

Hermione nodded. "And taking advantage of what he discovers, too."

Harry closed his eyes and sighed, having been reminded that Snape (and Draco too, most likely) would try to use Harry's thoughts and memories against her.

"What's wrong, Harry?" she asked, seeing his concern expressed nonverbally.

"It's what you just said," he replied, with eyes still shut. "I'm sure that you're right…Snape is going to take advantage of what he saw tonight and use it against you."

Hermione arched an eyebrow. "Me?"

Harry let out a deep breath that seemed to deflate him. He opened eyes that were close to watering, turned and said, "Yes, Hermione…you."

"Oh," she replied quietly. "So you accidentally saw me starkers, or some such thing?"

Harry grimaced. "Yeah…not the starkers bit, but the some such thing."

"I see…so….what exactly did he see?"

Harry closed his eyes and whispered.

"Your white knickers."

"My what?"

A deep sigh escaped from Harry's lips as he opened his eyes and repeated, "Your knickers, Hermione."

"How did Snape see my…how and when did _you_ see my knickers, Harry?" Hermione asked, a bit forcefully.

"Three weeks ago…in the library," Harry admitted. "I didn't mean to, honest…you were sitting at our table, and needed to stretch, and then you sat on your leg, but not before I….I saw your knickers flash underneath the table."

Hermione pursed her lips in thought.

"So which pair were they?" she finally asked.

Harry stared at her for a few moments, not knowing how to answer. So he instead, asked a question.

"Haven't ever done your laundry, or rummaged through your chest of drawers…what are my options?"

Hermione couldn't help but chuckle, and reveal a bit of her true feelings about the situation.

"_Yes! He finally noticed! So maybe I don't need to cast a 'Yes-Please-Notice-Me!' charm on my pants!"_

"Did they have a pattern to them?" she asked.

"Erm…no," Harry said softy. "Reckon that they were a bit too….thin for a pattern."

Hermione's eyebrows arched. "Thin, Harry? You mean…thin, like see-thru thin?"

Harry really didn't want to answer that question, so he reissued an apology instead.

"I'm so sorry, Hermione…I couldn't help but notice…and I couldn't stop Snape…tried more than any others to keep it from him but it was too easy to pull it from my short-term memory."

"That's okay, Harry," Hermione replied, patting his thigh. "I forgive you." She then tried to make light of the situation.

"Guess that it was lucky that I was wearing knickers that day."

Harry choked on some spittle.

"Wha…you mean that some days you…do you really go without sometimes?"

Hermione came as close to giggling as she dared.

"Not as far as you know….right?"

"Erm, right," Harry quickly replied.

A comfortable silence fell…far more comfortable a silence then Harry thought he had a right to expect. The absence of dialogue allowed Harry to focus on other things…like the fact that Hermione had left her hand on his thigh, and that the fingers on that hand were gently rubbing against his trouser fabric.

"So they were one of my sheer pair, huh Harry?"

"Erm yeah…I guess."

"So…you…and Snape…you probably got a glimpse at what was on the other side, then?"

"Erm…sorry, but…yes."

"I see," Hermione replied calmly. "So, Harry?"

"Yes?"

"You said that it was a short-term memory that he stole?"

"Yeah, those have always been the hardest for me to protect."

"But you said that happened weeks ago, Harry…it should have been converted into a long-term memory by now."

"Erm, yeah, about that," Harry said glumly. "It wasn't the kind of thing you see once and don't think about again."

Hermione smiled. "No I imagine not, if that was your first time that you saw up a skirt."

Harry frowned, not wanting to say that he'd seen far more then that with some of the other witches.

"So how many, Harry?"

"How many what?" Harry asked, wondering if she was asking about memories, or witches.

"How many times have you thought about my sheer white knickers?"

Harry muttered something that Hermione couldn't hear.

"What was that, Harry?"

"Well, you see…erm…too many to count, I guess."

The bushy-haired witch snorted, in an effort to keep from shouting out a self-congratulatory "Yes!"

"I'm so sorry, Hermione."

The brown-haired witch smiled and patted Harry on the shoulder.

"No worries…like I said, at least I was wearing knickers, right?"

"Yeah, about that…"

"Oh, Harry," Hermione chuckled. "Don't tell me you have also caught a glimpse of me without my knickers on."

"No, no," he said defensively. "It's just that…Oh, Merlin this is so embarrassing."

Hermione smiled. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"No, it's not that…well maybe it is, but…I have to Hermione. Like you said…if Snape saw it in my mind then he's going to take advantage of it, and I'd rather be the one to tell you…"

"Tell me what, Harry? Have you seen me going Regimental?"

"No," Harry said strongly. He then reluctantly whispered, "But I've imagined it."

"What was that last bit, Harry?"

"I said that I've imagined you without your knickers on," Harry repeated, perhaps a bit too forcibly.

"Oh," Hermione replied, using a tone of voice that conveyed more arousal then surprise. She then purred the word "So," and added, "You've imagined what I look like under my clothing. Was this out of some kind of idle curiosity, Harry? As an intellectual exercise?"

Harry snorted. He had gotten lots of "exercise" whilst perving on Hermione's knicker flash and its extrapolations, but would never admit it unless Hermione asked him directly.

Which of course she promptly did.

"Or were these closer to stimulating sexual fantasies?"

Harry hissed out a deep breath.

"Closer to the second," he admitted.

If Harry's eyes hadn't been firmly shut from embarrassment, he might have seen Hermione's cheeks flush a very deep red at this response.

"So you…you think of me that way, sometimes, Harry?" she whispered. "You use the memory of seeing my knickers to…you know?"

Hermione eyes bulged when Harry responded with a head nod, and she vocalized a sound that was in between a laugh and a whimper. Harry looked like he'd rather be anyplace else in the world, and made to scoot as far away from her as he could, but she would have none of that and pulled him into a tight embrace.

"Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry for you!" she said.

"What…I'm the one that should be apologizing, Hermione!"

The young witch, who was still locked in an embrace, shook her head, then turned and kissed the side of Harry's head.

"Harry…you were the one who was violated by Snape's actions, not me."

"But…"

"But you had every reason to expect that your private thoughts and memories are just that…private," Hermione added.

"But…it wasn't right for me to perv on…"

Hermione caught her breath as she waited in vain for Harry to finish his sentence. But he didn't, so she had to force the issue. She pulled back, and pushed Harry's chin up so that she could catch his eye.

"Harry, I'm not trying to fish for compliments, but is there a reason why it wouldn't be right for you to fantasize about…or to perv on my knickers?"

"It isn't respectful," Harry said glumly.

"What if I didn't mind?" Hermione asked.

"What?"

"You heard me," Hermione whispered. "How could I be upset about you thinking about me in that way…if Snape would be able to pull the same kinds of fantasies and the same kind of use of those fantasies from my head?"

Harry broke eye contact for a few moments, as he processed that statement. But once he got it, or at least thought he'd gotten the gist of Hermione's statement, he looked back up with eyes full of wonder.

"You mean that…you…you do, too?"

Hermione gave Harry a brilliant smile as she leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead.

"Yes, Harry…I fancy you too."

The-Boy-Who-Lived stared at Hermione, stunned speechless by the most perfect spell that she could have cast over him. His head stayed motionless as Hermione gently pulled his eyeglasses away from his face, and then kissed the red marks on the bridge of his nose where those glasses sat. No movement came when Hermione's lips moved down to the tip of his nose, or when she planted a chaste kiss on his closed lips.

Concerned by Harry's lack of reaction, she pulled back and stared into his eyes.

"Harry…are you okay?" she asked. "Is this….is this okay?"

The eyes that stared back at her began to water.

"This…this is beyond brilliant," Harry whispered. "I'm just…I'm just afraid…"

Hermione reached up and cradled Harry's face with her hands.

"Afraid of what, Harry?"

"Afraid of….afraid that he'll see this…that he'll take this from me…from us…"

Hermione smiled.

"Oh, Harry," she said with a happy sigh. When her thumb reflexively rubbed away a tear from his cheek, she decided that it was time for them to forget Snape for a while.

"Can I make a suggestion, Harry?" she asked.

Harry nodded, although with Hermione's hands where they were it could also have been characterized as a nuzzle.

"Please don't take this literally," she asked, "but...Fuck Snape!"

Harry snorted into her hands.

"What?"

"You heard me, Harry…forget about him for a few minutes…and trust that we'll come up with a way to make sure that he doesn't do anything like this ever again."

Harry looked at Hermione with wonder in his eyes. Then, he reached up and pulled her hands away from his face, and moved those hands to spots behind his neck. When Hermione smiled, and began to scrape her fingernails against the base of his skull, Harry moaned.

Then he moaned a second time.

And then he jumped Hermione's bones.

The Room of Requirement, anticipating this reaction, lengthened out the love seat so that Hermione's head didn't hit the armrest as she welcomed Harry into a horizontal snog.

**oo00OO00oo**

A few minutes later, when Hermione tried to encourage Harry's hands to roam, he panicked, and broke their embrace.

"Harry…what's wrong?" she asked breathlessly, reaching up so that she could pull him back down.

"It's Snape, damn it," Harry hissed. "I know what you said, but…if only this had been more like one of my wan….my fantasies!"

Hermione smiled. "Were you going to say 'wanking fantasies,' Harry?"

Harry closed his eyes, sighed, and nodded his head.

"It's okay, Harry," she replied. "You can say those things in front of your…."

Harry's eyes went wide. "You'd…really…you were going to say girlfriend?"

Hermione nodded. "If that's okay with you, Harry."

"Let me think about that for a moment," he replied with an impish grin. "Okay, I'm done thinking."

"And?"

"And, well maybe I should do this officially?"

Hermione smiled. "If you'd like to."

"Would you be my girlfriend, then…Hermione?"

"I'd love to," she replied instantly, pulling him back down for another embrace.

Hermione's answer provided enough happy distraction for another five minutes of intense snogging before Harry thought of his thoughts being stolen again.

"Fucking Snape!" Hermione hissed, as Harry pulled back from her a second time. "I'm not going to let him ruin this for us!"

Harry sighed, and shook his head. "Like I said…if only this had been one of my wanking fantasies…."

A clever idea popped into Hermione's head.

"Harry?"

"Yes, Hermione?"

"What kind of wanking fantasies do you have?"

Harry's mind raced at the question. The last thing he wanted to do was push his new girlfriend away with a full disclosure of his 'impure thoughts'."

"Why do you ask?" he replied.

"You mean beyond my natural curiosity?"

Harry snorted, and nodded his head.

"Well…my first thought about Snape was that we could just call Dobby and ask for a couple of more vials to store the memories of what we've done, and what I want to do to you tonight."

Stalling for time while he could imagine what she meant by 'what I want to do to you tonight,' Harry asked an open-ended, "But?"

"But...there's no way I'm going to risk losing these memories," Hermione replied. "What would happen if they got lost, or stolen, or the vials destroyed?"

"Good point….so, there was a second thought, then?" Harry asked.

Hermione nodded. "Do you think that Snape could tell the difference between actual memories and your pervy fantasies?"

Harry thought quietly for a moment. "I'm not certain, although there didn't seem to be much difference between the two when he forced me to relive them."

"So when you perv on me, you don't imagine me with huge baps?"

"Of course not," Harry protested. "Why would I want to do that?"

Hermione bit her lower lip. "Well, you have to admit, Harry, they aren't exactly the biggest pair in the Tower…"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Fishing for complements, Hermione? You've got perfect-sized bits, as far as I'm concerned, and they look no different in my dirty dreams then they do right now."

Hermione smiled, not at all upset over the fact that Harry was staring at her jumper-covered breasts instead of her eyes at that moment.

"Thank you, Harry," she said brightly.

"So where are you going with this, Hermione?" he asked.

"Into your dreams, if I have anything to say about it," she replied.

"How is that?"

"I said into your dreams," Hermione replied. "If Snape can't tell the difference between memory and fantasy, then we could reenact one of your fantasies tonight, turning it into reality, and he'd just think that he was seeing the same thing over again!"

"That's brilliant!" Harry replied. "except…."

"Except what, Harry?"

"Couple of things," he replied sadly. "First is that all of the fantasies that you star in take place in the library."

Hermione's eyes dilated, and a soft moan escaped from her lips. "Sounds good to me, Harry," she cooed, fidgeting in her seat. "Why is that a problem?"

"Because the library is closed right now?" he asked.

Hermione rolled her dilated eyes.

"Harry…where are we right now?," she asked, ordering him to close his eyes. When she told Harry to open them back up, he found himself within the Room of Requirement's version of the Hogwarts library.

"Was that the only issue, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Erm, no."

"What else is wrong, then?"

"Erm… it's just that….well, it's just that they're wanking fantasies you see, so…."

"So they aren't appropriate for kiddies to view at Saturday matinees?"

"You can say that again," Harry admitted.

"I see," Hermione replied. She thought for a moment, and then reached for her rucksack.

"Here, Harry," she said, offering him a quill and some parchment. "Why don't you write down the particulars of these fantasies, and we can see if any of them sound worthy of a go?"

"You want me to describe them for you?"

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "Think of this as a play, Harry. You're the lead actor, I'm the lead actress…leave out for now the pervy fantasies that involve more than one actress…we'll look those over another day."

"What?"

Hermione laughed. "So this will be a play, and you need to write out our dialogue, and our actions…you've already given us the setting."

Harry looked at his new girlfriend like she was crazy…which she was, actually, if "crazed with lust" counts.

"I don't know…."

"Too embarrassed, Harry? You shouldn't be, you know, but…if it would help any…"

Hermione's sentence fell off as she retrieved another quill and more parchment.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked.

"Writing down the stage instructions for my wanking fantasies," she explained. "It'll create equal opportunity for potential embarrassment."

"Or make me cream my jeans," Harry muttered.

Hermione snorted, reached over, and squeezed high up on Harry's thigh.

"You make that sound like it's a bad thing, Harry," she purred. "Now get to work."

"Yes, Ma'am!" Harry growled lustfully.

**oo00OO00oo**

Fifteen minutes later found Harry with only thirteen scenes on his list. Whist trying to remember the other two, he looked over at Hermione, and didn't know whether to be frightened or aroused by the fact that she had already filled out nine feet of parchment.

"All done?" she asked, feeling Harry's eyes on her. "Let's see what you've got, then."

"You make it sound like I'm revising my Transfiguration homework," he said with a smile, as he handed her his handiwork.

Hermione chuckled. "That's actually number five on my list."

The chuckling stopped once she began to read what Harry had written.

"Oh, my," she said softy. When she was half-way down the list, she looked up to ask Harry for a clarification, only to frown when she discovered his eyes shut again.

"What's wrong, Harry?"

"Erm…don't know if you realized it, but…you were playing with your nipple while you were reading."

"I was?" Hermione asked. She looked down at her chest and shrugged "Well, you can't blame me, can you Harry? If this were an erotic fiction class, this assignment would more than Exceed my Expectations!"

"Erm, right, so…well…there is some nipple tweaking in what I wrote, but it takes place back at our table." Giving a wave to the front of the Room's "Library," he added, "And not here."

"Well that's easily fixed," Hermione replied. "So tell me Harry…are any of these your….favorites?"

Harry coughed. "Erm, well, they all….they all get the job done."

"I see," Hermione replied, with a mischievous grin on her face. "Are there any that you'd like to try tonight?"

Harry's cheeks flushed. "You mean you'd be willing to…to do any of those?"

Hermione laughed. "Well, we might want to work up to your Number Thirteen, but…"

"Eep!" Harry chirped, before he wheezed out, "Number thirteen?"

"Yes, Harry…the one where you bend me over the table and I ask you to….let's see, what were the exact words?" She looked down on the parchment and smiled. "Yes, that's right. You flip up my robes and I yell, '_Shove that bodacious wand of yours up my bum!_'"

Harry winced in response. "Erm, sorry about that."

"No need to apologize, boyfriend," Hermione said with a smile. "I'm certain that 'bodacious' is a highly appropriate choice of adjectives."

"Hermione…" Harry whined.

His new girlfriend giggled…and this time it was a no-holds barred, Parvati-worthy giggle.

"Okay, then we'll hold off on that route for now…let's see…one through four just has me sitting there chewing "sexily" on my quill while I flash my fanny in different ways and you wank…I'd rather there be a little more physical contact….how about number six, Harry?"

The raven-haired wizard arched an eyebrow, and asked to see what he'd written down.

_6. Starts out the same as 3…You are sitting down with legs spread and no knickers. I start to...you know... in the stacks at the sight of your...you know what. I think you might have seen me, but you pretend that you didn't and decide to give me more of a show. You reach down and begin to play with you know what. I tug harder, and.... When I finish, I open my eyes, and you are staring at me and smile. The hand that is diddling your you know what waves at me from under the table, and then motions me to come towards you. I look around, and not seeing anyone, walk towards you with my robes open and you know still out and hard. When I get to the table the hand points to the floor, and I know that you want me on my hands and knees underneath the table. You reach out and let me lick your fingers, and then I bury my face between your legs. _

After reading the "script" Harry looked back up at Hermione.

"You're putting me on, right?" he asked.

"Not at all…will that one work, or….well, number seven is similar, except I show you my baps as well. Although….that might be a problem…"

"What might be a problem?" Harry quickly asked, suddenly deciding that fixing problems was a priority.

"The problem, Harry, is the potential difference between fantasy and reality," Hermione explained. "You already said that you didn't inflate my breast size, and…I assume that you didn't mentally adjust the size of your bits?"

Harry quickly shook his head.

"Great, so that just leaves the nipples….I'm going to also assume that you haven't seen my bared breasts in real life?"

"No," Harry admitted. "Is…is that a problem?"

"Could be…how big are my nipples in your fantasies, Harry?"

"Erm, well…don't really have a ruler around my dreams…"

"Tell me when, then," Hermione replied. She then made a small circle with the thumb and forefinger on her right hand and pressed it against her jumper-covered breast.

"Are they this big around, Harry?"

"Erm…bigger," Harry admitted.

Hermione smiled and said, "Say when, then."

As she slowly increased the size of the circle formed by her fingers, Harry said, "I can't believe that this is….stop. That's good."

Hermione looked down and smiled. "Not a bad guess, Harry…and close enough to match. Now, how about color?"

"Color?"

"Yes, Harry…what color are my nipples…pink, or rose-colored, or brown?"

"Erm…can't quite say."

"Are they like Ginny's, then?"

Harry frowned. "How would I know, I've never seen….well okay, I guess I have seen them but that's been purged from my mind, thank Merlin."

Hermione smiled, and nodded. "Well, then…in your fantasies, are they closer to Katie's in color, or Alicia's?"

"Hmmm…I'd say Katie's….hey!"

"What, Harry?" Hermione replied with an impish grin.

"How did you know that I would know the color of the Chasers' nipples?"

"So it's Angelina too, then?" she asked. Hermione giggled, and then explained, "It was an educated guess. You can decide whether or not to share how you know about such things with me at another time."

Harry sighed in relief. "So we're good, then?"

"Sadly, no," Hermione replied. "Mine are much closer in color to Alicia's…so no bared titties tonight."

Harry snorted. "Oh, well…guess we'll muddle through somehow, right?"

"That's the spirit, Harry!" Hermione giggled. "Guess that there's one final thing then."

"What's that?"

"Well, two things actually," she replied, as she reached up under her robes and pulled down a pair of red silk knickers. "That takes care of one," she stated. "Now I just need trimming instructions."

"What?"

"My fanny, Harry," she explained. "I'm going to assume that in your fantasies my curtains match the rug?"

"What's that?"

"My pubes are the same color as what's on my head?"

"Oh, well….yeah, that's right."

"So how much hair down there, Harry? Am I bald, furry, or somewhere in between?"

Harry looked down at the floor and blushed. "Erm…I guess I'd have to say somewhere in between."

"Great, then I've got something to work with," Hermione replied with a grin. "Any specific shapes, Harry?"

"What?"

"Fancy my kitty trimmed into the shape of a heart? Or maybe a snitch?"

"Hermione!" Harry chided.

"Yes?"

"To think that….well…when I think about Number Six, you are, sort of clean on the bottom, but hairier on top, but …I don't know!"

"No worries, Harry," Hermione replied, as she sat back on one of the library tables. "Just gives me a chance to show you a new spell."

"Erm…what kind of spell?"

Hermione smiled, pulled out her wand, and hiked up her robes.

"A depilatory charm," she replied brightly.

Harry stared down between Hermione's legs and dropped to the floor in a faint.

"Oh my, I'm afraid that I've broken him," she said with a grin.

"Can I get a little help, here?" Hermione then called out.

The Room replied by placing a small first-aid kit next to her.

"Thank you," she said in response.

"Let's see what we've got, then," she said, as she opened the kit. "Smelling salts, good…pepper-up potion…yes, that might come in handy."

A large grin broke out onto her face when she read some of the other labels.

"Stamina potions...lubrication salves...pain relief potions...and back up contraceptive potions? Guess the Room thinks we might get farther down Harry's list then I had hoped!"

Hermione's suspicions were gloriously played out once Harry was revived, and they demonstrated over the next several hours that the Room was truly capable of providing that which was truly Required.


	5. Chapter 5

**The Python Defense  
**A bawdy and slightly disturbing crack fic by canoncansodoff

**A/N**: This story (and those of you who enjoyed it) deserved an ending. So I began to write, and what I wrote grew, and grew, and grew…so I'm still not done with the story. But I am getting closer, and I think those who have liked this story so far won't mind…too much.

Please do recall that this is unabashedly presented as crack, and is not to be taken seriously.

**Disclaimer:** Not my characters, no money being made, etc., etc.

**oo00OO00oo**

**Chapter 5: In Between Fantasy and Reality**

The toe-curling goodnight kiss that Hermione and Harry shared in the Common Room made each of them wonder why they didn't spend the night within the Room of Requirement, under the plush covers of the lavish four-post bed that they had both _really_ needed. Or why, for that matter, Hermione didn't just follow Harry up the stairs and share his less lavish (but perfectly serviceable) dormitory bed. But plans had been made back in the Room of Requirement… and those plans required the assistance of those most at risk due to Snape's _Legilimency_ attack.

Hermione's hips swayed and bum bounced with each step as she began to climb her dormitory stairs…in part because she knew Harry was watching, and in part because their reenactments of his wanking fantasies had left her loins wonderfully tender and sore. When she reached halfway up the first flight, she stopped, turned around, and caught him staring up at her with lust in his eyes and a bulge in his trousers.

"Can I add to the flock, Harry?" she asked coyly.

"Huh?"

Not waiting for a more articulate response, Hermione checked the stairs above her, then ripped open her robes and gave her lover a full-frontal flash.

"Hermione!" Harry hissed weakly. "What if Snape steals this memory the next time he attacks my mind?"

His bushy-haired girlfriend smiled brightly as an idea came to mind.

"Well, better he sees my bits when I am halfway up the stairs, than see them when you were nuzzling them with your nose…right?"

"Erm, yeah…I guess…"

"Just think of it as an extra layer of protection, Harry."

"What do you mean?"

Hermione slowly dragged a finger down the middle of her chest as she grinned down at her boyfriend.

"A dilution-based defense," she explained. "Fill your head with less-important secrets, or memories, or fantasies…Snape can't view them all at once, right?"

"No, he's got to go one at a time, but…"

"So fill your short-term memory banks with thoughts about me standing her like this…or by imagining me walking into my dormitory room with my robes opened…or if I were to dress like this for meals…or had my bits exposed like this during classes…"

"Urrrrrrrr…You're killing me….."

"Think about me walking naked within the library stacks, Harry," Hermione purred. "Running my fingers along the…thick…hard…book bindings, then running those same fingers up the inside of my naked thighs….."

"Hermione!"

"Have I filled your head yet with pervy thoughts?"

"It was full of pervy thoughts before we even left the Room of Requirement."

"Then we're good, then."

"No, doesn't work that way," Harry whined, his eyes following the path of her fingers. "Snape just tricks me by getting me to think about what I'm most afraid of him seeing, then zeroes in on those thoughts and memories…memories like right now…"

Hermione sighed, shook her head with disappointment, then pulled out her wand.

"Well in that case, I've got a little message for him," she replied.

Using the flaming letters spell Harry had first seen within the Chamber of Secrets, Hermione spelled out the phrase "YEA, FOCUS PUNK!"

Harry snorted. "I'm impressed…any specific spot you want him to focus on, then?"

Hermione frowned. "Focus? Oh, sorry…hang on…."

The mostly naked witch waved her wand and rearranged the fiery anagram until it read "FUCK YOU, SNAPE!"

"There…that's better," she decided. "That pathetic wanker can kiss my arse."

"But…"

"Butt…bum…arse…whatever."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Minx!"

Hermione giggled and nodded her head in agreement. As the fires died she gathered the bottom of her robes, so that her boyfriend had a clear view of her bare "whatever" while she resumed her climb up the stairs.

She was both proud of…and slightly scandalized by…her brazenness. But it was, after all, too late to worry about their Potions professor "seeing" her that way within Harry's mind. Sticking to the script of his pervy fantasies in order to fool Snape had lasted all of three-minutes time…because she was aggressively impatient, and because he hadn't imagined in his wildest dreams that she would be that aggressive in bed.

Or that she could ignore her gag reflex, for that matter.

There was one last wink and one last flash, one before Hermione finally said her last goodnight and disappeared from Harry's view. She sighed, buttoned the front of her robes shut, then drew her wand…fully anticipating an angry confrontation with Ginny Weasley. But the door to the Fourth Years' room was shut as she climbed past it, and the excitable redhead was nowhere to be seen.

Hermione bypassed the entrance to her own dormitory room and instead entered the Sixth Year's room. But Katie Bell wasn't to be found, and the other two Chasers weren't in the Seventh Years' Dormitory either. Hermione checked the shared lavatory without success, then decided (after making use of its facilities) to give up the hunt and head for her own bed.

Parvati and Lavender's bed curtains were closed, giving their bushy-haired roommate a gossip-free opportunity to quietly undress. Hermione's mind drifted back towards the Room of Requirement as she unbuttoned buttons, and a warm flush traveled from her cheeks down towards her chest. Fingers strayed almost on their own volition from button holes to breasts, and a low growl escaped from her mouth as she twisted and tweaked nipples that Harry had lovingly suckled off-script.

The need to revisit _all_ of the places where her lover's mouth had explored that night overwhelmed the teen-aged witch...so she kicked off her shoes, forced half-undone robes over her head, and threw them in the general direction of her desk chair. Then she ripped open the bedcurtains and…found a bed full of scantily dressed witches playing cards.

"Oh great, you're finally here," said Katie Bell. "Shall I deal you in?"

"Looks like she's already been playing strip poker," Luna Lovegood observed.

"And lost," grinned Daphne Greengrass.

"I'd say that she won, if she was playing strip poker with Harry," snarked Susan Bones.

Hermione stared at the gathering with shocked disbelief. Easy enough to figure out how the Gryffindor Chasers had gotten into her dorm room. But there was Luna…and Lisa Turpin from Ravenclaw, Susan from Hufflepuff…and a Slytherin?

"Well…are you going to join us, then?" asked Daphne.

Hermione frowned, then looked back over her shoulder towards the closed curtains of the other two beds. Not wanting the group discussion to grow any larger, she nodded, then climbed onto her mattress, squeezing in between Luna and Daphne.

"How did you all get up here?" she hissed. "How did you keep so quiet?"

"Potter's House-Elf…and charmed bed curtains," Daphne explained.

"Dobby?" asked Hermione. "House-Elves can carry students from one part of the castle to another?"

"Apparently from one bed to another," Susan stated.

"Useful way for Harry to get around the stair alarms, don't you think?" Angelina snarked. "In fact…why don't we get the little guy to bring Harry here right now?"

"Erm, no, let's not," Hermione replied. "At least not before you all tell me why you're here."

"You should know," said Daphne. "Dobby popped into my bed a half-hour ago, said that _The Great Harry Potter's Sir's Alpha did be wanting to talk to the rest of his harem, _and next thing I know I'm sharing your bed with a half-dozen different witches."

As Lisa, Luna and Susan echoed that story, Alicia Spinnet giggled, and took up the "Harem! Harem! Harem!" chant. Hermione shushed her and said, "Well, I never said harem…or claimed to be Harry's Alpha…I just said that those of us at risk from Snape's snooping should get together to make plans. Didn't think that Dobby overheard us, or that we'd be meeting now, dressed like this."

"Or undressed, in your case," teased Katie.

Hermione reached over and slapped the Sixth-Year's arm. "Stop it!"

"So do you know if everyone is here, then?" asked Lisa.

The naked bushy-haired witch snorted. "Yeah, for the most part…Ginny flashed her arse at Harry once, but from what he said, and from what I've seen of it, that's not a whole lot to worry about."

"Worry, in terms of Snape taking advantage of it, or in terms of tempting your boyfriend to stray?" teased Katie.

"Both," Hermione snorted.

"Interesting that you didn't deny being Potter's girlfriend," Daphne slyly noted.

Hermione smiled sweetly, and replied, "Yes it is, isn't it?"

Katie squealed, and leaned over so that she could pull the younger witch into a hug.

"It's about time!" she declared. "So tell us all the naughty details, girl!"

"Erm, no."

"Not denying that there are lots of naughty details, though?"

"No, I'm not," Hermione grinned.

Susan Bones glanced at Lisa and shook her head.

"So, Hermione…I suppose that Harry told you all of our own naughty details?"

A serious expression immediately formed on Muggleborn witch's face.

"No, actually…he didn't," Hermione declared. "He just said that everyone here had the most to worry about from what Snape had seen."

"But Harry didn't tell you what he saw?"

"Nope."

"And you weren't the least bit curious?"

Hermione chuckled. "Well, maybe a tiny bit. But there I was…on top of my favorite table in the library… naked in my boyfriend's arms. Do you really think that I wanted to talk about other witches right after we had…"

"Shagged for the first time?" teased Katie.

"Then shagged for the second and third times?" added Alicia.

"Shagged three times in the library?" asked Susan.

"Stop!" hissed Hermione.

"You really did stop at three times, then?" asked Daphne.

"I'm not going to answer that."

"You really did shag in the library?" asked Susan.

"No, it was just the Room of Requirement, pretending to be the library."

"But you're not denying that you shagged in a room pretending to be the library…"

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"So," asked Luna, "Harry didn't tell you about the time that he and I peed in the Forbidden Forest?"

"Erm, no."

"Would you like me to tell you about the time that Harry and I peed in the Forbidden Forest?"

"Maybe later."

"Okay," Luna replied brightly.

Lisa Turpin finally joined in on the conversation.

"Why _did_ you want to talk with us Hermione?"

"Revenge," the Gryffindor witch said with determination. "Revenge, and damage control."

"Revenge I can understand," said Daphne. "But what's that about damage control?"

"There are ways that we can limit the damage caused by Snape's snooping," Hermione explained.

"How?" asked Lisa.

"Harry is convinced that Snape is going to try to use what he saw as blackmail," said Hermione. "And the best way to neutralize a blackmailer's power is to get whatever secrets he's trying to use out into the open."

"What?" asked Susan. "You want us to come out about what he saw?"

"Not necessarily," Hermione replied. "Well, maybe, depending on what he saw…look there's two ways Snape wants to use this stuff. First, he thinks that it will isolate Harry…that if we knew what Harry saw, or that Harry has been perving on us…that we'd get angry if we found out, and stop being his friends."

"The idea that he's perving on me wants me to be even friendlier," snarked Katie. But then she saw the dangerous look that Hermione was giving her, and quickly added, "Friendlier, of course, in a non-sexual way that wouldn't at all pose a threat to his girlfriend."

"Of course, Katie," Hermione said sharply. "Look, my point is…Harry dealt with this on his own tonight, by telling us in advance…and apologizing, where needed."

"No need here," said Daphne.

The opinion was quickly shared by all of the other witches, limiting Hermione's ability to worry, or become cross with any single one of them.

"Well, I'm glad to see that Harry won't lose any friends over this," she decided.

"Close female friends, at least," observed Angelina. "Didn't think that Ron took the news all that well…"

"Or Colin," added Luna.

Hermione chuckled. "Yes, well…Ron is a git, and I think that Colin will just have to live with a broken heart."

"So what's the other way that Snape could use this information?" asked Alicia.

"Well if he can't hurt Harry this way…he could try to hurt Harry's friends."

"By using what he saw against us…personally," whispered Susan.

Luna nodded. "Openly declaring that we know about what Harry saw offers some protection."

Hermione nodded. "Yeah, I've got some ideas there…which is why I want you all to meet us before breakfast tomorrow."

She then explained her plans to everyone's satisfaction.

Katie then noted, "So that would only leave us vulnerable if what Harry saw or did with each of us was illegal."

"Well no worries for me, at least," said Daphne. "My father forced me to pose for those nude photographs…and they're not uncommon attachments to proposed marriage contracts."

"A marriage contract?" hissed Hermione, suddenly remembering the package that Harry had reacted nervously to within the Great Hall.

Daphne snorted. "More worried about that, then the thought of your boyfriend perving on pictures of me flashing my fanny in the Potions classroom?"

Katie snorted in response. "Sounds like Hermione flashing her bits for real in the Library trumps your candid photography."

Lisa nodded. "And it also sounds like she has nothing to worry about with that contract…or else Dobby would have been calling you Harry's Alpha, instead of Hermione."

Daphne looked at the expression on Hermione's face, noted that she was in Gryffindor Tower and vastly outnumbered by Gryffindors, and quickly backtracked.

"No worries, Hermione," she said. "Harry was a perfect gentleman, and returned the pictures when he turned down my father's proposal."

"No worries about us, either," added Angelina. "Harry didn't touch us…he didn't even fantasize about shagging us after we teased him in the Quidditch locker rooms."

"Well, there was the strip poker game…and Katie's knickers…" Alicia noted.

"Not! Helping!" hissed Katie. She then turned towards the red-faced bushy-haired witch and said, "Nothing happened, really!…Tell you later."

"Harry held my hand when we ran naked in the woods," Luna confessed. "But he let go of my hand when we urinated."

Not know how to respond to that statement, Hermione stared at Luna with opened-mouth shock. Once she gathered back some of her wits, she said, "Well, then…so far it doesn't sound as if any of us were doing anything that could get us thrown into Azkaban..."

Katie cut in and added, "Or worse… expelled?"

"Oh, geez…am I ever going to live that one down?"

"Probably not."

"What about you, Hermione?" asked Katie.

"What do you mean?" she replied. "There's no law against accidentally flashing your knickers in the library."

"What about laws against underaged sex?"

"Doesn't apply," Hermione replied quickly. "I'm sixteen, Harry is fifteen, and the age of consent within the wizarding world is twelve."

"Twelve?" Katie asked incredulously.

The bushy-haired witch shrugged. "Don't ask me…I don't make the rules."

"Rules that you no doubt carefully researched before tonight, right?" snarked Angelina.

Hermione replied with a small smile, then turned towards the two witches who had not yet shared their stories.

Susan bit her lower lip, then looked down at the bed linens.

"Hermione…you really don't have a thing to worry about from Lisa and me," she whispered. "We didn't do anything with him…didn't even know that Harry was watching."

"Watching you do what?" asked Daphne.

Susan gulped, then reached for Lisa's hand.

"Doing something to each other that could practically get us dumped in Azkaban."

"What do you mean?" asked Hermione.

"Oh, honestly, Granger," snorted Daphne. "Lisa and Susan are both pureblood witches."

"So?"

"So society expects that they'll marry pureblood wizards, and make pureblood babies…instead of being witch's witches, and munching on each other's carpets."

"Oh."

Hermione turned towards Lisa and Susan, and knew the truth of the situation just from their downcast expressions.

"It's going to be horrible," Susan whispered. "My Auntie could lose her job if word gets out."

"Should have thought of that before you two tickled and tongued, eh?" asked Daphne.

"Hush," Hermione admonished.

A lull in the discussion allowed the bushy-haired witch to focus her thoughts, and to come up with a potential work-around.

"Right then…I think that we can deal with this," she declared.

"How?" asked Susan.

Hermione looked at the two lovers with a critical eye.

"Are you sure that you two don't want to steal my boyfriend?"

"Yes, of course."

"Are you sure that you two aren't going to perv on my boyfriend?"

"What do you mean?" asked Susan. "He saw us naked…neither of us saw him the same way?"

Hermione bit her lip, wondering what might happen if that situation were rectified. But she knew Harry would be devastated if what he'd accidentally spied caused trouble for Susan and Lisa…or for Susan's aunt. And she also thought that she could trust Susan and Lisa.

Not that there wasn't merit in the phrase, "Trust, but verify." Or that there wasn't nervousness all around, for that matter, when the meeting broke up and there were only two left in bed.

**oo00OO00oo**

There wasn't all that much difference between fantasy and reality when Dobby dropped two naked witches into Harry Potter's bed…which is what Hermione had not only expected, but planned upon.

The Boy-Who-Was-Masturbating let out a manly shriek as he clamped his legs together and covered his erection with the hand that hadn't been tugging on it.

"What'cha doing, sweetheart?"

"Erm..."

"Can I assume that you at least silenced your bed curtains, Harry?"

"Hermione?" he rasped. "What the hell?"

"Wow…I'm impressed," said the other witch. "A bit disappointed, though, Hermione…thought that you would have tired that big boy out back in the Room of Requirement."

"Susan?" Harry asked incredulously.

"You have to ask, Harry?" she teased. "Don't recognize me dressed…or undressed this way?"

"Not wearing my glasses," Harry muttered, trying to pull his bed linens up high enough to cover his exposed crotch. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on perspective), Susan was sitting on them.

"So, Harry…thinking of me, I hope?" asked Hermione.

"Erm, yeah…obviously," he said. "So what are you doing here?"

"You mean you don't want to be in bed with your naked girlfriend?"

"Well…but…Susan?"

"You don't want me to share, then?" Hermione pouted.

"Share…wha…is this some kind of boyfriend test?" Harry demanded.

Hermione giggled, then leaned forward until her face was fully resolved within the dim light and Harry's near-sightedness. She then leaned forward a little more, until her breasts touched his chest and her lips were within kissing range of his lips.

She kissed those lips, then forced them open with her tongue. Harry was too dumbfounded to resist (not that he would have resisted any stronger if his mind had been clearer).

They snogged until Hermione decided that she'd teased her boyfriend long enough. So she slipped down along Harry's side, and while Susan watched from the front corner of the bed, whispered an explanation into his ear.

"Susan and Lisa could get into big trouble if anyone else finds out that they're lesbian lovers," she said. "We're afraid that Snape is going spill the beans, based on what he saw in your head, so we've decided to create some reasonable doubt."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean…tomorrow morning Susan is going to march into breakfast holding her boyfriend's hand."

"Boyfriend? Who?"

"Why you, silly," Hermione teased, as she nipped his earlobe with her teeth.

"Me? But what about you? What about Lisa?"

"We'll be right behind you two, along with your other Dreamgirls."

"So…so Susan is going to pretend to be my girlfriend?"

"That's right…at least until we permanently deal with Snape."

"But…if Snape says otherwise…and it's my word against his?"

"Ah, yes…that's where we'll need your help."

"What do you mean?"

"Do you think that Dumbledore can scan surface thoughts and memories as easily as Snape can?"

"Probably."

"So tomorrow, if Snape claims that Susan is a lesbian in front of you and Dumbledore, you are not only going to claim otherwise…you're going to think otherwise."

"What….how am I going to do that?"

"By remembering how Susan is going to sleep naked in your bed tonight, Harry."

"Erm….wha…..?"

"Susan is going to spend the night in your arms," Hermione explained. "And she is going to wake up naked in your bed tomorrow morning. And then she'll cover herself with a sheet, and be 'accidentally' caught by one of your roommates when she leaves your bed in order to use the loo."

"She is?" Harry squeaked. "Why?"

"Independent lines of evidence," Hermione replied. "If Dumbledore sees your thoughts about Susan staying here with you, and just happens to drop into Ron's or Neville's heads as they remember what they'll see tomorrow morning…."

"Brilliant," Harry hissed. "Scary, but brilliant."

"We thought so," Hermione replied brightly.

"And you're really okay with that?" Harry asked. "And Susan….you're okay with that…and Lisa knows about this?"

The Fifth-Year Hufflepuff giggled as she stretched out on Harry's other side, and brought her face into his clear field of vision.

"Yes, yes, and yes," she replied. "It was Hermione's idea, after all…and Lisa helped flesh it out."

"So to speak," Harry snarked.

Both witches replied with endearing giggles.

"But…you're just going to allow your boyfriend to sleep with another girl?"

"Yes, Harry…I trust you, and Susan trusts you…and Lisa trusts you."

"Don't know that I trust myself sharing a bed with somebody so beautiful…and naked…"

"No worries," Hermione said brightly. "I'll be right here the whole time."

"Really?" asked Harry. "You're staying too?"

"Yes."

"But…won't that kind of muddle up the idea that Susan is my girlfriend and that I'm only sleeping with her?"

"Not if you focus on what you see, Harry."

"So how do you expect me not to keep my eyes my incredibly sexy girlfriend's body?"

"Oh, Harry, you're so sweet," Hermione cooed. She gave him the kiss that the comment had earned him, then cracked open his bed curtains and borrowed his wand.

It was surprisingly (or not so surprisingly) compatible.

"_Accio Invisibility Cloak_!"

**oo00OO00oo**

It wasn't worth Hermione losing a full night's sleep, given all of the trust, so rather than sit up and invisible in the front corner of the bed, she stretched alongside the far side of the bed. Susan, with a bit of prodding and encouragement, cuddled against Harry's other side.

So there he was, flat on his back, with an invisible real girlfriend on one side, and a visible fantasy girlfriend on the other. His erection, which had never really gone away during their talk, had no intentions of leaving once Hermione gently pushed Harry's neck against Susan's face, and pulled Susan's leg over Harry's leg. And this didn't go unnoticed.

"Susan!" Harry hissed.

"What?"

"What are you doing?"

The Hufflepuff giggled.

"I'm doing nothing, Harry…see? Here's my hands."

"Oh, right…Hermione!"

"Sssh," replied his girlfriend. "And Susan…get your hands out of his eyesight."

"Whaaa….why?"

"Stop talking, Harry….stop thinking…and start looking and feeling."

"What do you…."

"Sssshhh…focus on Susan's face," instructed Hermione. "She can't see what's going on down here…and you couldn't see whose hand is doing what even if that hand wasn't covered by your cloak."

"So you're going to…while Susan is…."

"While Susan is pretending to be your girlfriend I'm going to…stimulate…the intensity of this memory."

"Erm, if that's what you want to call it…"

"Is that a complaint?"

"Erm…"

"Didn't think so."

Harry couldn't believe what was happening was actually happening. Or what was seemingly happening, but wasn't really happening exactly how he saw it. Or apparently was going to remember it. But given circumstances, was he going to complain?

Would any wizard complain, in similar circumstances?

Susan's face was too beautiful, and Hermione's invisible hand too skilled, for him to remember that Colin Creevy might have been the exception that proved the rule.


	6. Chapter 6

**The Python Defense  
**A bawdy and slightly disturbing H/Hr crack fic by canoncansodoff

**A/N**: Only incremental progress, but 4k words, and a ridiculously fast update (at least for me). Fair trade, no?

**Disclaimer:** Not my characters, no money being made, etc., etc.

**oo00OO00oo**

**Chapter 6: Setting Their Own Stage**

Hermione Granger emerged from underneath the cloak and shared a smile with Harry's other uninvited (but certainly welcomed) guest.

"So the shower room stories are true, I guess?" asked Susan.

"Which ones?"

"The ones told by frustrated witches whose boyfriends always fall asleep right after they come."

Hermione shrugged. "Well, I really couldn't say…at least not until I collect more data."

"More data?" whispered Susan. "You mean…by sleeping with other boys?"

The bushy-haired witch chuckled as she reached out and began to play with the thin trail of hair that led down from Harry's belly button.

"No, silly…by sleeping more than one night with _this _oneboy."

"Oh…I never imagined spending even one night with a boy…much less The-Boy-Who-Lived."

"Never?" teased Hermione. "Not even as part of an exception sandwich?"

The pretty Hufflepuff blushed.

"So you two talked about me back in the Room?"

Hermione chuckled. "Yeah, we talked a bit…when we weren't otherwise busy."

"And you still trusted me enough to share his bed?"

"Meh…I trust Harry well enough…and I am chaperoning. If you ask me, it's your girlfriend that's being asked to show the most trust."

"I suppose…still, to be here like this…I'm naked, and he's naked…"

"And I'm naked, too, if you hadn't noticed."

"Oh, yeah…I've noticed."

"Yet it's Harry's bits that you keep sneaking peaks at?" teased Hermione.

"Erm, well….sorry. You've got, erm….very pretty bits. But this is the first time that I've seen a naked boy, much less been this close to one…unless you count the times that I've changed my nephew's nappies."

"Slight difference, then?"

"Nothing slight about the differences," Susan giggled. "I just couldn't believe it, when Dobby popped us here, and he was hard, and big…and he was holding it, and he was…"

"Yeah, seemed a little unbelievable to me as well," said Hermione. "I mean, really…I know that teen-aged boys are supposed to have a lot of stamina, but four times in less than two hours?"

"Four times?" Susan gasped. "So you...and Harry…three times?"

"Yes, well…four minus one is three, isn't it?"

"Why aren't you more sore, then?" blurted Susan, blushing when she realized just how coarse her question was.

Hermione chuckled.

"There could be a difference between Harry coming three times, and Harry coming three times inside me."

"Erm, right….sorry for being so nosy."

"It's okay," said Hermione. "I'm probably just as curious about what it's like when you and Lisa do it."

"Really?" asked Susan. "You mean that you're curious….bi-curious?"

Hermione blushed. "No, no, not that….not that there'd be anything wrong with me if I was, mind you…"

"Right. So…you're just curious from an intellectual perspective."

"Exactly. I mean, the girl-girl scenes are shot to get het boys hot and horny…no reason to expect that real lesbian sex would be like that…"

Susan's eyes went wide.

"Girl-girl scenes?" she gasped. "What are you talking about?"

"Erm…well...nothing, actually."

"Oh, no…you're not getting out that easy."

"Alright," Hermione sighed. "It's all the Room's fault."

"The Room of Requirement?"

"Yeah. It's just too good at what it does."

"You mean when it provides what you really required?"

"That's right."

"So one day you decided that what you really required was to watch lesbian sex?"

"No, no…not exactly."

"So what was it that you really needed, Hermione?"

"Erm…well…some instruction, actually."

"What?"

"It was a few days after we first found out about the room," Hermione explained. "One of the twins was joking about what the room would do if Harry opened it…but instead of him thinking that he needed a spot for the DA to practice, they joked about him being a normal teen-aged wizard and thinking that what he really needed was to lose his virginity."

Susan giggled. "So what did the Room look like, then?"

"Oh, no…it was just a joke."

"No, not then…what did it look like tonight when Harry lost his…erm…"

"It was very comfortable," Hermione replied. "And that's all I'm going to say."

"Fair enough…so about you watching lesbian sex?"

"Oh, right…so, the joke got me thinking."

"There's a surprise."

"Hush!" Hermione hissed. "I was curious about just how powerful the room's magic was…and that was at a time when I was really beginning to crush on Harry. But I've never had a boyfriend before, and while my mother sat me down a few years ago for The Talk, and gave me a few books to read…"

"There's another surprise."

"Yes, well…they weren't picture books. And I really wanted to be ready, and see how to do it properly…if I ever…if Harry and I, well…but I certainly didn't want to gain that kind of experience with another boy…"

"So they don't pass around _those _kind of magical paintings in your dormitory?"

"Yes, they do…but I was too embarrassed to ask to borrow one of them."

"But you weren't too embarrassed to ask the Room to provide you with some paintings?"

"More or less," Hermione admitted. "I snuck out one night, and went to the Room, and thought that I really wanted to see how sex works. But when the door opened, I walked into the basement of my parent's house."

"Your parent's house? You mean that you watched your parents shag?"

"No, no, no…oh God, no! There wasn't anyone else in the room. Just me, our family's entertainment system, a comfortable chair, and…and the kind of videotapes that my parents hide in their sock drawers."

"What's that?"

"It's how Muggles watch other Muggles have sex," Hermione explained. "At least, how they watch it in their own home…their version of magical porn paintings."

"Oh, I see," said Susan, not really seeing, but not wanting Hermione to take the time to explain further. "So this is how you were able to watch witches have sex with other witches?"

"Well, they weren't witches…probably weren't even real lesbians…just actresses, but…yeah…the movies always had at least one girl-girl scene."

"So…what did you do, then?"

Hermione shrugged. "I sat down and watched. Got some helpful pointers on techniques and positions."

"From those girl-girl scenes?"

"No, no…from the others…the ones with one man and one woman in them."

"Made use of those pointers tonight, then?"

The bushy-haired witch blushed.

"Right, that's a yes, then," Susan teased. "Can't believe that you, Hermione…so naughty!"

"Well…"

"And you're really curious about lesbian sex?" asked Susan. "Well, I guess it's only fair."

"What do you mean?"

"After you've let me have a close up view of your boyfriend's wand, and heterosexual sex…not that I could really see much with you underneath that amazing cloak. Still, it'd be rude if I didn't at least invite you to watch Lisa and me go at it as well."

"Oh, well, erm…not really necessary….thanks, but…"

"Relax, Hermione…I'm just teasing."

"Right, I knew that."

Susan doubted that statement, but let the comment pass.

"I suppose you could get the same answers by letting me watch those…videotapes, you called them?"

"You'd want to do that?"

"Why not?" Susan asked brightly. "We could make it a pervy double date…you and Harry, Lisa and me. Maybe I'd even learn some new techniques or positions."

"Susan! That's so…so...naughty!"

"Says the naked witch who rubbed her boyfriend off while another naked witch lay next to him and pretended that she was doing all the work?"

"Um, well…guess when you put it that way…"

"So what do we do now?" asked Susan.

"Stick with the plan…we fall asleep, you wake up tomorrow in Harry's arms, and get spotted trying to leave his bed underneath his invisibility cloak."

"But how can I get spotted if I'm under the cloak?"

"By letting it slip a bit," Hermione replied. "Wouldn't flash too much skin…especially if it's Ron that spots you…just raise the hem."

"Right," said Susan. "And in between the waking up in your boyfriend's arms and leaving his bed?"

"What do you mean?"

"I was just thinking," Susan said carefully. "If I were doing this with Lisa, in Lisa's bed…and if Harry and I are pretending to be boyfriend and girlfriend…"

"You two would kiss, at the very least," Hermione agreed. "You might even expect Harry to return the favor and rub you the right way."

"Of course I wouldn't expect that…I mean…I'm not…wouldn't want…not that there's anything wrong with heterosexual activity…"

"Relax, Sue…I'm just…although maybe, as long as we're here…"

"What?"

Hermione gave the other witch a wicked grin. "So you've just given your pretend boyfriend a pretend hand job…ready to do a little more pretending?"

"More ….what are you suggesting?"

Hermione waggled her eyebrows and licked her lips. That she did this while staring at Harry's crotch gave Susan a very good idea of what she might be practicing to pretend.

**oo00OO00oo**

It probably couldn't rank as the most significant night in Harry Potter's young life…given what happened on the evening that his parents died, or the night when Voldemort was reborn…but it was easily the most pleasurable and strangely memorable night. And that strange and intensively pleasurable night blended smoothly into a very pleasurable (and no less strange) morning.

He woke covered not by bed linens, but by a naked witch. Well, to be accurate, she was only partially covering his own naked body…leaning across his stomach, propped up on an elbow and her back turned so that she was facing the front of his bed. Far enough down his torso that the near-sighted boy couldn't see her clearly in the dim light that filtered through his bed curtains…he could just make out her red hair, tied up in two pig tails that swung back and forth when her head bobbed up and down.

But what he woke up almost seeing within a blurry field of vision wasn't nearly as important as what he woke up _feeling_… the friction and suction provided by a pair of lips that were wrapped around morning wood.

But whose lips?

"Susan?"

The question startled the witch whose tonsils were being tickled, and she responded involuntarily.

"Wha….ouch!Teeth!No Bite!"

"Oh….sorry, Harry," his Hufflepuff bedmate quickly whispered.

A barely conscious wizard wondered how Susan could verbalize her apology and maintain suction at the same time. Seeking answers, he reflexively reached for his glasses.

"Please, don't, Harry," Susan whispered. "I'm still kind of shy about being naked in bed with you…can you just lay back down and let me do something _memorable_ for you?"

The Hufflepuff's emphasis on memory jogged his own.

He smiled, and gladly complied with her request.

"Absolutely…_Susan_."

Harry briefly thought about teasing the real girlfriend who was hiding under his cloak by moaning out his pretend girlfriend's name, or by reaching down and squeezing his pretend girlfriend's bum. But then he remembered his real girlfriend's teeth, and where they were presently located, and thought better of it.

**oo00OO00oo**

"What the….Susan?"

"Eeep!"

Harry waited a moment before he popped his head through his bed curtains…just in time to see a pair of disembodied feet dash out the door. He smiled, then looked across the room. The expression on Neville Longbottom's face was priceless.

"Mornin' Nev…sleep well?"

"Not…not as well as you, apparently," the boy replied incredulously. "So…Susan?"

"What about her?"

"She just….I just saw her…a lot of her…"

"Really? I just saw a bit of leg…maybe the Twins have dropped the brims on their headless hats?"

"No…she was…the cloak slipped as she crawled out of your bed…saw her face, and her…."

Harry's disembodied, curtain-draped head winked at his dorm mate. "Oops?"

"Oops?" squeaked Neville. "What happened last night after you kicked us blokes out?"

"Well, like I said…I had a few confessions to make...and hexes to dodge…and hearts to break…"

"Not all of them, apparently?" asked Neville, glancing back towards the dorm room entrance.

Harry smiled. "Yeah…still can't believe how it worked out…that somebody as beautiful, and smart, and sexy could feel the same way about me that I feel about her…"

"Wow, don't know what to say, Harry…I'm happy for you, but…I always thought that it would be you and Hermione…"

"Yeah, you and the rest of the house, apparently."

"Does Hermione know?"

"Hermione knows a lot things, Nev."

The sarcastic comment didn't go unnoticed. But the playful slap on his bum that the comment provoked did go unnoticed, as it was obscured by silenced-charmed bed curtains and Neville's general cluelessness.

"Does Hermione know that Susan spent the night with you?"

"Of course," Harry replied. He winked again, and added, "Who do you think helped with the travel arrangements?"

"Really? Wow, that's just…dunno what to say. Nice to have friends like that."

"It is…isn't it?" Harry replied. He yawned, and added, "Well…still a bit early…think I'm going to try to sleep for a few more minutes."

"Right…well, I'd say sweet dreams, Harry…but I doubt that you going to need my help there."

Harry chuckled, and turned towards the other two beds in the room. Both had drawn curtains, and the loud snores from Ron's bed indicated that at least he was still asleep. And if Seamus had overheard? Well, the more independent lines of evidence, the better.

**oo00OO00oo**

The bed curtains on Hermione's bed had been closed when Dobby popped her into the girls' dormitory, a few minutes before Susan had made her own escape. Which was a good thing, because her brain had been too worn out to come up with a quick excuse on why she'd flown "Air Dobby" naked, and with a goofy smile on her face.

She stretched out, and took a few minutes to compose herself and review the situation…Susan knew more than the "Harem," the "Harem!Harem!Harem!" knew more than the other female members of the DA, who knew more than the boys. But everyone one needed to "know" a single story that contained a healthy mix of bare-arsed truths and bald-faced lies. So she reviewed her cover story, and (once she got out of bed) promised to tell that story to her roommates right after she showered.

Hermione wasn't at all surprised to find a much larger audience waiting for her return from the lavatory.

"So?" asked Katie Bell.

Hermione shrugged innocently as ran a brush through her wet hair.

She didn't feel very innocent, but she was a very good actress.

"So…not much to say, really. Like Harry said, I had to be the last one because I was in charge of the room."

"Still don't believe that excuse," Ginny huffed.

"Believe what you will…we walked back to the Tower, and I said good night to him and left him standing at the base of the stairs."

"So Harry was able to walk, then?" asked Lavender.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, nobody hexed him after I left?"

"Not as far as I know."

"Nobody shagged him so silly that he couldn't walk either?" giggled Parvati.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Yes, Parv…that's exactly what happened. Once Ginny left, I jumped Harry's bones and we shagged ourselves ragged. Then we ran naked through the hallways back to the dormitory, and then I snuck into his bed and we shagged even more. And then…."

"And then you woke up!" Angelina laughed.

"Sounds like my kind of dream," sighed Alicia.

Those who didn't know the truth laughed at Hermione's apparent over-the-top sarcasm. Those that knew that there really was a fair bit of truth within Hermione's dramatic description laughed even harder.

The bushy-haired witch was able to satisfy the curiosity of the Harem!Harem!Harem! girls with a wink and a silent, mouthed promise of "_Later!"_ Then she raised everyone's curiosity by opening her school trunk and digging a bag out from deep within one corner.

"What's that?" asked Parvati.

"The start of our push back," Hermione replied.

The group of Gryffindor witches gathered around her as she dumped a small pile of "Potter Stinks!" badges out onto her bed.

"What are were doing with those in your trunk?" asked Katie.

"Waiting for the right moment to get some good use out of them," she replied.

Hermione picked one of the badges up in her left hand, and concentrated as she cast a modification spell using a wand held in her right. Once she was finished, the words _"Support Cedric Diggory – The True Hogwarts Champion"_ were replaced with a shorter, much more personal statement….

"_Proud to be - Harry's Dreamgirl!"_

"Who…so we're going to advertise the fact that Harry perved on us?" asked Katie.

A satisfied smile formed on Hermione's lips as she nodded her head and pinned the transfigured button onto the front of her robes.

"Why are you wearing it then?" snapped Ginny.

Hermione tried not to catch the infectious giggles that were threatening to escape from the lips of the Gryffindor Chaser line. Then she tried to bury Ginny not with bullshit, but with a blizzard of truths.

"Do you really want to know, Ginny? Know how Harry confessed that his willie stiffened when I accidentally flashed my knickers in the library? Or how I forgave him by sharing my perviest fantasies, and asking him to tell me his? Want to hear how I taught him the depilatory charm, and then hiked up my skirt and let him practice on my bits?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Ginny waved dismissively. "And then you two shagged like bunnies, and then you ran naked in the halls, and then you shagged some more in Harry's bed."

Hermione grinned. "Well, to be honest…we did throw robes over our hot, sweaty, sticky bodies before we left the Room of Requirement…"

"And then you woke up again!" Lavender chimed in.

Again, everyone laughed at the truth (as they knew it…or thought they knew it).

Alicia asked, "So what about the rest of the button?"

Hermione let her magic speak for itself, and willed the button pinned to her robes to display its alternative modified message. The "POTTER" part was unchanged, but "STINKS!" was replaced with "STUD!"

"POTTER STUD?" giggled Parvati. "Aren't you missing a verb or two?"

"Looks perfect to me," Lavender declared. "Could I get one?"

Hermione snorted.

"Did you star in any of Harry's pervy fantasies?"

"No…but I'm working on it."

Hermione's eyes narrowed as the other witches laughed at the joke that wasn't really a joke. But as she had a cover story to maintain, she shook her head and shrugged. There were, after all, a few spares that could be passed out…even after Ginny claimed one for a boatload of delusional reasons.

**oo00OO00oo**

George Weasley let out a whoop when Hermione walked out of the stairwell with a smile on her face and a "Harry's Dreamgirl" button on her chest.

"I knew it!"

"Knew what?" asked Hermione.

The answer wasn't so obvious when several other girls came down the stairs wearing identical buttons.

"Erm…knew we should have offered shorter odds on a harem," he joked.

"Harem! Harem! Harem!" shouted the three Chasers, before breaking down into giggle fits.

"So…a preemptive declaration?" asked Fred.

"I always knew you were the smart one, George," Hermione joked.

"Hey, I'm Fred!"

"No you're not, but she got it right anyway."

Romilda Vane, who'd been doing some last-minute homework revisions in the corner of the room, looked up and asked, "Can I have a button?"

"Gotta talk with our Alpha," Katie announced.

"Who is the Alpha?"

"Why, the first wife in our harem, of course," Katie replied.

"Harem! Harem! Harem!"

"Sorry, Romilda," Hermione replied with mock-seriousness. "I'm not taking any more applications right now."

Colin looked up from his chair by the fire and pouted.

"Oh, Poo!"

"That's Luna's line!" Hermione joked.

"So does she need a button as well?" asked Ginny.

Hermione looked towards the stairs leading towards the boys' dormitory and grinned.

"Harry's the one to answer that, I think."

"Ask me what?" asked a messy-haired wizard, as he stepped into the Common Room.

"Harry!" shouted Lavender.

"Harem!" shouted Katie.

"Harry!" cooed Ginny.

"Harem!" Alicia shot back.

And the chant began in modified form, using this call and response.

"Harry! Harem! Harry! Harem!"

"You're all loony!" Ron shouted. "And I'm hungry."

"Geez, what a surprise," snarked Fred.

"All set then, Harry?" Hermione asked.

Her secret boyfriend watched her button flash back and forth, then snorted.

"Brilliant!" he declared. "Cuts them off at the knees if they think they're going to surprise any of you."

"That's the idea," Hermione replied.

"You're the best," said Harry, pulling his best friend into a hug that meant more to each than it appeared.

"Hey now," she teased, pushing him away. "Wouldn't want anyone to get the wrong idea, right?"

"Nope," Harry grinned. "And, erm…about that…"

"Something to share?" Hermione asked.

The-Boy-Who-Lived rubbed the Back-Of-His-Neck.

"Actually…after you went up the stairs….I kind of…"

"Can't whatever you're trying to say wait for the breakfast table?" whined Ron.

"Well, you see…"

"C'mon, Harry," Hermione said. "I think we might have a few more buttons to pass out in the hallway."

"Does that mean that you're going to take harem applications out there, then?" Romilda hoped.

"Sorry…just approving a few that have already been submitted."

"Oh, Poo!"

"Harem! Harem! Harem!"

**oo00OO00oo**

Harry crawled out of the entrance and fell into the arms of a nervous Fifth-Year Hufflepuff.

"Hey there, Harry," Susan blushed.

The-Boy-Who-Lived remembered the self-promise to be assertive, and to let the Gryffindor within play a bit. He smiled widely, pulled her even closer, and replied, "Hey, there, Sweetheart."

The roar from the crowd that had spilled out behind Harry rang down the hallways as he grabbed her hand.

"So, Hermione…I think that we need a few more buttons?" he asked sheepishly. "For Lisa…and Luna…and Susan…my girlfriend?"

The bushy-haired witch nodded, then stepped forward and pulled the pony-tailed witch into her own hug.

"Oh, Susan…I'm so happy!" she declared, taking one step back so that she could pin a "Dreamgirl!" button onto her robes. "Harry finally got his head out of his arse!"

"Whoa…didn't see that coming!" exclaimed Fred.

"And good thing that none of our customers did either!" added George.

"So…so….so…when did this happen?" squeaked a crestfallen Ginny.

Harry shrugged. "Well, after I escorted Hermione back to the tower, I…well…I needed to share a few things with Susan."

"Like your bed, mate?" joked Seamus.

The Irish wizard thought he'd delivered a punch line. But the giggles morphed into gasps when the inadvertent truth within that joke caused both Susan and Harry to blush deeply.

"Don't tell me you two…." Parvati hissed with excitement.

"Okay, I won't," Harry parried. "If you don't mind…I've had enough of my personal life exposed over the last few hours."

Hermione nodded in agreement as she handed buttons out to Lisa and Luna, who'd been waiting patiently at the entrance with Susan.

"So is that everyone, Harry?" she asked.

The-Boy-Who-Lived blushed, then stayed in character by turning towards his "girlfriend."

"Erm, one more, I think…might have to get her in the Hall, although it might not be safe for her to admit that I saw…erm…sorry, Susan."

The red-haired witch displayed her very cute dimples as she smiled.

"That's okay, Sweetheart…everything worked out in the end, right?"

Harry nodded, and pulled Susan into a hug that placed his back to Ginny's, and allowed him to wink at his real girlfriend.

"Yeah, it did."

Ron sighed. He might have been using this time to reflect on how he interacted with witches, and with Hermione in particular. But given the hour, he could still only think of his first love.

"Can we go now? I'm hungry!"

Ron's brothers rolled their eyes, and cuffed his ears as they passed by. After taking a few steps down the hallway, then turned and asked, "Well?"

Harry laughed, took Susan's hand, and walked towards the Twins. Hermione hooked arms with Lisa Turpin (in a totally platonic way) and fell into step behind, followed by Luna and the three Chasers.

They tried not to laugh too much as they were led down to the Great Hall in true Fred and George style.

_"Make way for the Heir of Casanova!"_

"_Seriously sexy wizard coming through…"_

"_Make way for The-Boy-Who-Lived-And-His-Harem!"_


	7. Chapter 7

**The Python Defense  
**A bawdy and slightly disturbing H/Hr crack fic by canoncansodoff

**Disclaimer:** Not my characters, no money being made, etc., etc.

**oo00OO00oo**

**Chapter 7: Skirmishes**

Daphne Greengrass could barely hear the Weasley Twins above the sound of her own heavy breathing. She slowed down from her dead run, then rounded the corner of a third-floor hallway and came face-to-face-to-face with the red-haired leaders of the processional.

"Ambush," she wheezed, holding up her hand in warning.

Fred and George stopped, then stepped apart so that a semi-circle formed in front of the Slytherin witch.

"Who?" asked Harry.

"And where?" asked Hermione.

Ron scowled from farther back in the ranks and called out, "Why?"

"Does Malfoy really need a reason to ambush us?" asked George.

"No, I mean…why would we trust anything that slimy snake has to say?"

"Okay, fine Ron…your pig-headed short-sighted concerns are duly noted," Hermione snapped. The bushy-haired witch then turned towards Daphne and apologized.

"Sorry, our friend here is suffering from diarrhea of the mouth this morning."

"I'll second the apology," Harry added. He arched an eyebrow and asked, "Shall I introduce you, then?"

The Slytherin witch looked over Harry's shoulder at the group, paused, then shrugged.

"Now is as good a time as any."

Harry smiled, took a few steps forward, then turned back towards the group and wrapped an arm about Daphne's shoulders.

"This is Daphne Greengrass," he announced. "She's a Fifth-year Slytherin…and a friend of mine. Somebody who was put at risk by Snape's assault as much as any of my other Dreamgirls."

"Oooh, now there's a story I'd like to hear," said Parvati.

"Not now."

"Does that mean yes later?"

"No."

"So now you've got at least one girl from every house, Harry?" teased Katie.

"Harem! Harem! Harem!"

Harry shook his head, and turned back to Daphne.

"Don't mind them…so where is Malfoy set up?"

"Marble stairs, landing in between the main entrance and first floor."

"Unusual choice," noted Fred. "Nowhere to hide and hex from the shadows."

"They don't think they need that today," said Daphne. "Going to be a verbal assault…they figure that the taunts will be hurtful enough."

"Hoping that we draw our wands in response?" Harry asked. "Let me guess…Snape will swoop down just at the right moment."

When Daphne nodded, Hermione sighed.

"Well at least some things never change."

Harry took a look back at their group…mostly DA, but not all, and more than a few younger ones in the back like Romilda Vane.

"This is an annoyance," he decided. "We know what he's going to say, and we've got it covered. Draco's not the main problem here. Not worth the fight."

"Think they'll let us past them without a fight?" asked George.

"Probably not," Harry decided. He thought about asking Dobby to help bypass the ambush, popping them by one at a time. He really didn't want to advertise his friend's newly revealed transport capabilities over something minor. But maybe Dobby could help diffuse the situation all on his own?"

"Fred….George…with me for a minute?"

"Sure thing, Harry."

The black-haired wizard caught Hermione's eye and nodded towards Daphne. She nodded, and invited the Slytherin witch to stand with them while they waited. A "Dreamgirl" button was offered, taken, and pocketed by with the promise that it'd be worn when it mattered.

Those in the group that focused on Harry and the Twins watched them walk half-way back up the hall. Words were exchanged, heads nodded and smiles formed. A house-elf was called. He arrived, exchanged words, then nodded his head vigorously and smiled. Then he popped away. He popped back a few moments later cradling a stack of wands in his arms. Fred picked one of these wands up, then smiled, nodded his head, and returned it to the pile.

Once the house elf popped away for a second time, Harry and the Twins walked back to the head of the line.

"Okay, I think we've got things taken care of," Harry announced. "If this plays out as advertised, I don't want anyone drawing wands unless I do."

"Can we at least have them drawn?" asked Ron.

"If you want to hold onto them in your pocket or up your sleeve, okay…but let's not give the bad guys reason to claim that we're the bad guys…right?"

Daphne frowned. "What have you got planned, Potter?"

"Oh, the usual," Harry grinned.

"That's what I'm worried about," snarked Hermione.

"You should stay behind, Daphne," Harry suggested. "Unless you're ready to publicly join my harem?"

"Harem!Harem!Harem!"

"Oh, stop it, you three," Harry whined. "It was just a joke."

"Harem!Harem!Harem!"

Dobby reappeared by Harry's side.

"All set, Mr. Harry Potter, Sir," he announced with a spiffy salute.

"That's great, Dobby," Harry replied. Then he squatted down and said something into the house-elf's ear. Dobby looked towards Daphne, smiled, and nodded his head.

Harry stood and leaned over to whispered into the Slytherin's ear.

"After we leave, Dobby will take you wherever you want to go…unless it's my bed or my shower."

Daphne smiled. "Oh, darn."

"And next time you need to do something like this, just call for Dobby…he'll get you here without you needing to break a sweat."

The pretty Slytherin thought about making a witty retort, but decided that there were enough wand-bearing witches eying her suspiciously.

"Thanks, Harry."

"No, thank you, Daphne."

When The-Boy-Who-Lived returned to Susan's side and took her hand, she squeezed his hand and teasingly asked, "Should I be jealous over you whispering into a very pretty witch's ear?"

Harry chuckled and shook his head. Once they got moving down the hallway again he squeezed back and quietly asked, "And should I be jealous over you thinking that Daphne is a very pretty witch?"

"Hush, you!"

"Yes, Dear."

**oo00OO00oo**

They were met on the stairway by Draco, his two goons, and his girlfriend.

"Oh, look, Pansy," the blonde-haired wizard noted. "It's the Gryffindor pervert himself."

Fred and George pointed towards each other and asked, "Who…Me?"

"No…Potter's the Perv," declared Pansy.

"Get out our way, Malfoy…breakfast is half over," Ron shouted.

"Hey Pervy Potter…think any of these girls could keep their breakfast down if they knew what you've seen or done?"

"I don't know, Draco…think they'd vomit if I told them about the time your mummy found you playing dress up with the family house elf?"

"What's so pervy about that?" asked Fred.

"They were borrowing from his mum's collection of unmentionables."

"Liar!" Draco shouted. "You're just trying to change the sub…what are you doing holding hands with the Huffledyke?"

"Mind your tongue, Draco!" Harry hissed. "Especially when you're talking about my girlfriend."

"Right…and does your _'girlfriend'_ know that you rubbed one off while she was using her tongue on Turpin?"

"Is that a fact?" asked Susan. She glanced back at her secret Ravenclaw lover and apologized for her boyfriend's active imagination. Then she turned towards Harry and asked, "Sweetie, I thought your fantasy involved a three-way with us and Pansy?"

"What!" the Slytherin squawked.

"So does Pansy need a button now?" asked Hermione.

"Erm, sorry, but you know how active my imagination can be…sweetheart," Harry confessed.

Susan smiled and kissed Harry on the cheek. "You're forgiven, honey. So does this mean I need to add Hermione to our fantasy harem?"

"Harem! Harem! Harem!"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Speaking of the Mud…Hey Granger do you know your friend Pervy Potter likes looking up your skirt in the library?"

Hermione smiled sweetly and replied, "Yes, I do, Draco."

"But…but….but that doesn't bother you?" Pansy demanded.

"Hmm…it might if it was during my monthlies," Hermione replied. She then turned to boyfriend and asked, "Was I wearing my ugly grandma panties when you looked up my skirt, Harry?"

"Hermione! I'm sure that your grandma is a lovely woman," he chided.

"Harry..."

"Okay, fine...actually, you weren't wearing any knickers at the time."

The Muggleborn witch shrugged her shoulders and turned back to Draco. "Well there you have it…no worries."

"Do you really go around without wearing knickers, Hermione?" Ron demanded.

"Relax, Ron, her bits were covered," Harry stated. He then slyly added, "Of course, given how sheer those lacy white knickers were, there wasn't that much of a difference."

"Hermione! I can't believe that you...!"

"Hold on," Pansy hissed. "What's Pervy Potter's 'girlfriend' think about Granger flashing her bits at him?"

Susan shrugged. "I'm sure it wasn't intentional."

"And it doesn't bother you?" Pansy screeched.

Susan smiled. "Actually, I enjoy hearing my boyfriend's fantasies…it gets me hot and makes the real thing so much better…and so much _bigger_." She then winked at the Slytherin witch and added, "I suppose Draco's stories about him dressing in his mum's bras and knickers do the same for you?"

Draco pulled out his wand, aimed it at Susan and yelled, "Shut up!"

The dramatic tension was diminished when the wand turned into a rubber chicken.

"What...hex them!" shouted Draco.

Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy drew their wands and suffered the same result. And then they suffered through a roar of derisive laughter.

Harry grabbed Susan's hand and took a step towards the four Slytherins. "Step aside, chicken man, Susan and I have an important announcement to make."

"Hey Draco, do you want a Dreamgirl button?" asked Hermione.

"Absolutely not," Harry snapped. "Draco can't join my fantasy harem."

"Harem! Harem! Harem!"

"But Harry….he was nice enough to pass his buttons out last year…it's only right that we do the same and give him one."

"No!" Harry stated.

"No way in hell!" Malfoy yelled.

Hermione sighed and nodded her head in sympathy.

"You don't need to work so hard at acting, you know."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, it's quite understandable that you're disappointed that Harry doesn't think of you that way."

"Of course I'm not…to think that…."

"It does no good to repress those feelings," Luna chimed in.

"Hey, I don't mind," said Harry. "He can repress of those kinds of thoughts about me as much as he wants."

"Like I'd want to…" Malfoy spat.

Susan giggled. "Says the boy who is waving his rubber cock in Harry's face."

"POTTER!" bellowed a voice from above.

Harry looked toward a greasy-haired wizard who had been standing quietly in the corner under a just-canceled Notice-me-not charm.

"Professor Snape…what a surprise finding you here." Harry grinned.

"What did you do with their wands!"

"I did nothing to them…as I'm sure you know from having watched this whole encounter."

The Potion's eyes narrowed even more than they had been.

"Potter! You! Me! Now!"

"Erm, actually…I'm with Susan, now, Professor…sorry."

"Why you! We'll sort out detentions later. The Headmaster is waiting for us."

"So we're meeting right now, then?"

The Head of Slytherin House glared down at Harry. He sneered at everyone else within earshot, then nodded and spun on his heels and began to stride down the stairs.

"Guess that means yes?" asked Harry, watching the Potion's professor's robes billow.

"Are you sure that you want to…"

Harry shrugged. "Better this is done away from Ministry ears."

"But Honey!" Susan whined. "What about our grand entrance, walking hand-in-hand into the Great Hall? I so want to make every other witch in the castle jealous."

"Except for the other witches in the harem," Luna noted.

"Harem! Harem!..."

"Okay, enough of that," Hermione decided, waving off the Chasers.

"POTTER!" Snape bellowed.

The-Boy-Who-Lived glanced over at the rubber chicken-wielding Slytherins, then gave Susan a peck on the cheek.

"Watch my back then?"

"So long as I can watch your cute bum at the same time."

"Can I watch it too?" asked Lavender, as Harry rushed to catch up with Snape.

"No!" Susan and Hermione replied in tandem. Susan then turned to Draco and added, "And that goes for you too!"

"I'm not going to…!"

"Now Pansy…Pansy can perv on Harry's bum, given that she's already part of his fantasy…."

"Harem!Harem!Harem!"

"I am not part of Potter's harem!" Pansy insisted.

"Are you sure?" Hermione teased. "No matter," she decided. "I think that you four have better things to do than perv on Susan's boyfriend…like figure out where you might have left your wands."

The fact that Draco and his friends were still holding rubber chickens was compounded by the fact that their Head of House was no longer protecting them. The tipping point was reached when the Weasley Twins casually drew their wands out, and the four Slytherins ran away.

"Wait! Pansy! You forgot your button!" Lisa shouted.

Hermione worried her lower lip with her teeth as she watched them scurry off.

"Dobby!" she whispered.

The house-elf popped up underneath the table.

"Yes, Harry's Potter Sir's Alpha Missus?"

Hermione knelt down and whispered into Dobby's ear.

"Thanks for your help with the rubber chicken wands, Dobby. But now...Harry has just been summoned to a meeting with Professor Snape and the Headmaster, and well…I'm afraid they might do something."

The house-elf straightened his back and narrowed his eyes.

"Dobby does be keeping the Great Harry Potter Sir from harm!"

Exactly how he was going to accomplish this task was left unstated as the house-elf immediately popped out of sight.

**oo00OO00oo**

It had been more than eight months since Albus Dumbledore had made eye contact with Harry Potter…eight long months of being forced to divine his young charge's thoughts rather than determine them certainty. This restraint was necessary, given the Headmaster's fears that Voldemort could look through the boy's eyes just as readily as the boy saw through his own…and use that conduit to steal the Headmaster's most heavily guarded thoughts and memories.

But there were other things that were almost as scary...things like losing his supply of lemon drops…or losing his Death Eater spy…or losing control of the Boy-Who-Lived.

It was therefore worth the risk.

The Headmaster stared into the young wizard's defiant gaze, seeking evidence to support the boys's claims…then quickly looked away. The brief dip into Harry's surface thoughts was so disturbing…so alarming…that it took all of his skills as a Master Occlumens not to react negatively to them.

It wasn't that Harry was at risk…it was his control of Harry that was at risk. If the boy's relationship grew with the Bones girl…and he grew to trust the girl's Aunt more than his Headmaster…

Disaster.

There was a pregnant pause in the heated, closed-door conversation…a silence that built up the dramatic moment, and allowed the Headmaster to winnow though the shifting sets of schemes and paths forward.

He finally nodded, and said, "Harry, you must continue your Occlumency training, despite your stated concerns regarding Professor Snape's methods of instruction."

"It's not instruction…it's an invasion of my privacy, and he's trying to use the information against me and my friends!"

Snape snorted derisively.

Dumbledore held up a hand, weakly asking his Potions Professor to exhibit some restraint.

"Harry, my boy…you must realize that it is the only way to test the strength of your mental shields?"

The-Boy-Who-Lived shook his head emphatically. "He's gone way beyond what is necessary."

"Impudent whelp!" hissed Snape. "You dare tell me what is necessary for something that you haven't even begun to understand?"

The young wizard gave the Potions professor a defiant glare. "Let's say that you were trying to teach me how to keep students from gaining unauthorized access to the library's Restricted Section."

"What relevance…"

"It's an analogy," Harry snapped.

"What's…"

"You don't know what an analogy is?" Harry sneered. "It's like a comparison…"

"I know what an analogy is you dunderhead!" Snape bellowed. "I simply don't know what the relevance of your…analogy…is to this conversation!"

"Well if you wouldn't keep interrupting me," Harry snapped.

"How dare you lecture me on….!"

"Severus, please," Dumbledore interrupted. "So, Harry…you are comparing learning how to construct mental shields to learning how to keep students from gaining access to the Restricted Section?"

"Yes, Sir."

"And would there not be a need, in both instances, for an instructor to directly test the student's defenses?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Then I am afraid that I fail to see…"

"Headmaster, if Snape…"

"Professor Snape!"

"If I tried to defend the Restricted Section, and Professor Snape was able to get past my defenses, why would he then think he had the right to read any of the books on the other side?"

"Harry, all of the Professors have full access rights to all of the books within the Hogwarts library."

"Do they also have full access rights to all of the pervy fantasies or memories within the unprotected minds of Hogwarts students?"

"I've had enough of this…." Snape hissed, making his way towards the door.

"Hold on, Severus," asked Dumbledore. He then turned towards Harry and tried to conjure up a beatific smile. The effect would have been enhanced if he hadn't been so afraid to look the boy in the eyes.

"Harry, my boy, I can assure you that the goal of your lessons is to protect your mind from Voldemort. Professor Snape would never try to seek gain from whatever he learned during those lessons."

"Bullshit!"

"Language!"

"Dragon Dung!" Harry countered.

"Detention!" Snape bellowed.

"If Snape wouldn't try to take advantage of me, then why did he threaten me last night with what he thought he saw in my mind? And why did Malfoy already have that information this morning, and try to use it against me and my friends?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Harry, we must focus on the greater good, here…"

"No."

"Selfish, obnoxious, brat…."

"No!" Harry stated even more clearly. "I'm done with Remedial Potions!"

"But Harry, you must continue!" said Dumbledore. "If not for the Wizarding World, or even for yourself…then for your friends, at least. And for your girlfriend."

"What do you mean?" Harry spat. "Are you going to try to blackmail me with what Snape thought he saw as well?"

"No, no…not at all, Harry. I was thinking of Voldemort…what would happen to Miss Bones…or to Miss Weasley or Miss Granger…if he were to gain access to your mind and see what Professor Snape saw?"

"Oh, oh…I know the answer to that one!" Harry snarked. "If Voldemort tried to hurt me by invading my mind, just like Snape did, then he might try to blackmail or humiliate me…just like Snape did!"

"Professor Snape, Harry…and you know that Voldemort would do far more than that."

"Doesn't make what Professor Snape did any less terrible…and funny how you're more interested in correcting what I say than what he does…or did."

"I was getting there, my boy," the Headmaster sighed. "But, unfortunately, the first classes of the day are to begin in a few minutes. Shall we continue this discussion later this evening?"

"I'm not leaving until I find out what Snape's punishment is going to be for what he did."

"It's Professor Snape, Harry…someone who was only trying to help you."

Harry shook his head.

"Then if he's only trying to help me, and wouldn't think to take advantage of what he saw last night, or what he thinks he saw…I want an oath."

"What?"

"I want _Professor _Snape to swear on his life and magic that he has not revealed, and will not reveal, what he's learned during my Remedial Potions class to anyone else without my permission."

"I'll do nothing of the sort!" hissed the Slytherin Head of House.

"Why not?" asked Harry. "If you aren't guilty, then you have nothing to worry about, right?"

"You won't get rid of me that easily, Potter!" Snape declared.

"Harry," interrupted Dumbledore, "I have asked Professor Snape to keep me informed of your progress under his tutelage. Those progress reports would, by themselves, run afoul of your proposed wording."

"So would telling Draco Malfoy about my fantasies, or trying to impugn the integrity of any of the witches that I might fancy."

"Nevertheless…I am sure that Professor Snape would be willing to promise, on a go forward basis, not to reveal to others what he learns while testing your mental defenses."

"Not good enough…I want an oath, and it needs to include not only what he might learn in the future, but what he's already seen."

Snape sneered at the younger wizard. "Oh ho, so it is true that your so called girlfriend is really a witch's witch?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah…just like it's true that I heard Trelawney moaning your name as she ground her fanny against her crystal ball."

"Mr. Potter, some respect!"

"I need that oath, Headmaster…even more so now that it's clear that _Professor_ Snape can't tell what is real and what is fantasy."

Dumbledore shifted his gaze back and forth between Snape's glare and Harry's chin (still not wanting to make any unnecessary eye contact with the boy). He then conjured quill and parchment, and reluctantly began to compose the exact language of an oath that all three of them could all live with.

**oo00OO00oo**

Snape seethed as he watched the door close behind Harry.

"How could you do that to me!" he hissed. "How could you allow a student to have that kind of control over a professor…to act with such impudence and disrespect?"

Dumbledore sighed.

"There are times, Severus, when we are asked to make personal sacrifices in service to the greater good. And there is never a good time to make powerful enemies by propagating baseless accusations."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that your accusations were groundless."

"How can you say that?"

"I can say that having risked scanning the boy's surface thoughts when you accused Amelia Bones's niece of being a lesbian."

"You did what….after all this time saying that you couldn't risk that sort of thing?"

"It had to be done, both to regain the boy's trust and to keep the MLE from throwing you into Azkaban."

"What?"

"The Bones girl is not a lesbian."

"Of course she is…I saw for myself what Potter saw!"

"What you no doubt thought you saw was a teen-aged boy's hormonally-fuelled fantasy."

"What did you see that I could not?" Snape demanded.

"The Boy's unguarded thoughts," replied Dumbledore. "While you were standing there, claiming that Miss Bones was a lesbian, her boyfriend was summarily dismissing the idea by mentally reliving recent experiences that proved otherwise."

"What kind of experiences?"

"He has shared his bed with her, and she, in turn, has shared her body."

"Impossible…I bit down on every juicy, pervy memory that the brat tried to squirrel away, and the only one that Puff was in had, erm..."

"Careful of your oath, Severus," Dumbledore scowled. "So I take it that Mr. Potter's accusations regarding your intentions were accurate, then?"

Snape ignored the question. "How do you know that Potter wasn't just dreaming that he was shagging the little bint?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "Severus, my boy…these memories were quite realistic."

"So? So were the false memories that he sprung on me last night."

The Headmaster looked towards the door and sighed, thankful that Harry hadn't forced him to make the same kind of oath that Snape had just taken.

"There are two distinct reasons why I know that the boy was mentally reviewing real experiences regarding Miss Bones," he declared. "You would, of course, have no reason to think of the first."

"And why is that?"

"Because unlike Harry or myself, you do not require corrective vision."

"His glasses prove that he shagged the girl?"

"Just the opposite, actually," Dumbledore replied. He took a moment to fish a lemon drop out a pocket and popped it into his mouth.

"Young Harry was broadcasting a first-person perspective of his liaison…he allowed me to look through his eyes, as it were."

"No different than many of the perverse fantasies and memories that I saw," Snape said dismissively.

"Indeed? Tell me, Severus…did any of the images that you…reviewed…were they blurred, in any way…or was there full clarity?"

"They were…there wasn't any blurriness, that I recall."

"As is to be expected, my boy…even when the owner of those mental images wears glasses. Either because they are true memories of times when he was wearing those glasses…or because they are imaginative constructs."

"So how does that relate, then?"

"Mr. Potter inadvertently shared with me a memory of a very blurry Miss Bones servicing him orally. It was in Mr. Potter's bed, and he recalled the girl modestly asking that he not put his glasses on."

"And just because he had the equivalent of a bag over the bint's head, you believe him?"

"I do," Dumbledore replied. "But that is only the first piece of evidence. Tell me Severus…if you were going to fantasize about someone you fancy performing fellatio, would that memory include a painful moment when lips were accidentally replaced by teeth?"

Snape stared at the Headmaster with disbelief.

The Headmaster decided that he probably should have been more specific.

"Irrespective of your…predilections…do you think that Mr. Potter would have oral sex fantasies that involved pain and teeth?"

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that Harry's surface thoughts suggest that his girlfriend needs to work on her technique. The boy also was thinking about Miss Bones subsequently being caught out by Neville Longbottom as she attempted to escape his bed underneath his cloak. Do you honestly think that he would want to fantasize about either one of those things?"

Dumbledore waited a few moments to see if Snape's stuttering, spittle-fueled response resolved into something more coherent. When it failed to do so, he decided to push on.

"You are bound by your oath, now, Severus," Dumbledore stated. "I was not asked to do the same…either because Harry forgot to ask, or because he didn't think that he needed to ask. So I could, if I wanted to, act on what you observed last night. Everyone whom you confided with last night could as well…young Draco, for example."

"But…you think that…"

"It does not matter what I think about your acts or intentions. What does matter is that there is not a shred of corroborating evidence that the two witches in question were engaging in illicit activities. There is, in fact, evidence to the contrary…not that it matters. The evidence was obtained using methods and abilities that neither you nor I want revealed."

"So you are just going to let this all pass?"

"Yes, Severus…and so are you. I suggest that you refrain from doing any type of mental surveillance over the short term…either passive or active...outside of your lessons with Mr. Potter."

"But the oath only binds me to information gained during the brat's lessons."

"And there is nothing, in turn, keeping the boy from spreading word on how you gained that information...either within the castle's walls, or beyond. It is hard enough for me to deal with parents who are upset with your potions instruction…don't give them or the Board of Governors any more ammunition!"

"Is that an order, then?"

Dumbledore shook his head.

"Consider it some strongly worded advice," he tiredly replied. "Advice provided by someone who knows a bit too much about what goes on inside your own head."

Snape considered the Headmaster's words, wondering about the implied threat behind them. He swore just over his breath, then stormed out of the antechamber in disgust.

He might have kept trying to change Dumbledore's mind, had he not known that a second-year potions class was meeting within the hour that would serve as an outlet for his anger and frustration.

Dumbledore followed close behind Snape, leaving only one other in the room…a diminutive being who was smart enough and loyal enough to realize that keeping his master from harm sometimes required a bit of eavesdropping.

**oo00OO00oo**

Harry and Hermione had two shared classes that day, but could find neither the time nor the place for him to provide more than a brief summary of the meeting with Snape and the Headmaster. Part of this, of course, was due to the pretending…while Harry and Susan weren't in any shared classes that day, he still walked her to her classes and held her hand. This caused all sorts of excitement (and for some heart-struck witches, disappointment). By midday there was a huge entourage behind the couple as they headed towards lunch…big enough for Harry to suggest that they no longer needed to make any kind of grand appearance to get the news out, and that they could therefore find someplace less crowded and intrusive to share a meal.

Given how close the kitchens were to the entrance to the Hufflepuff dormitory, it was a simple enough thing for Harry and Susan to slip away from the other students (with some help from his cloak) and tickle the pear. Dobby almost fainted with excitement when he was presented with the opportunity chance to serve the two teen-agers. He went all out, with a red tablecloth-covered table, a bottle of wine, and candlelight. He even convinced another musically-inclined house-elf to play the violin table side. Harry and Susan's good moods were tinged with bemusement, enough for them to allow Dobby to decide what they'd have to eat.

It was the first time that Harry had eaten oysters.

He laughed out loud when Susan quietly told him why she thought they were on the menu.

They were careful about discussion topics, as there were far too many other oversized ears in the kitchens, and two too-many magical portraits hung on the walls. He did tell her about the confrontation with Snape, since it was something that he would have done if his real girlfriend was there. They also shared observations about how everyone was reacting to their coming-out (so to speak).

Harry and Susan both had really basic questions about each other, since it was their first substantive conversation. But since they figured that they should already know things like the names of siblings, or the size of the basilisk, they pushed on as if they already knew the answers to these questions. Which made for a few awkward moments…but not too awkward. Each found it surprisingly easy to talk to the other...in no small part because they knew each other's sexual orientations (as well as each other's girlfriends). Harry found the lack of sexual tension a bit odd, given how intimate they'd been in his bed. But odd and different were pretty much normal conditions for his life, so it didn't bother him too much.

The need for reticence was proven just as soon as they finished the meal, thanked Dobby, and left the kitchens hand-in-hand. Loyal house-elfs and magical portraits were summoned to the Headmaster's office, and asked to provide a full accounting. These reports added more lines of independent evidence for the puzzle master who deigned himself the designer of the puzzle that was The-Boy-Who-Lived's life.

Dumbledore spent a full hour alone in his office. It was time spent contemplating options, and ignoring the heartburn that he knew had nothing to do with what had been on his plate during lunch.

**oo00OO00oo**

They decided to eat separately that evening. Susan wanted to prove to Hannah that her best friend wasn't going to abandon her now that there was a boyfriend in the picture. A few members of the Harem!Harem!Harem! who knew better might have thought it was Lisa Turpin who needed that kind of reassurance…especially given how well Lisa's girlfriend had slipped into her role as Harry's girlfriend.

Not to mention Hermione's skills as both an actress, and an acting coach.

The bushy-haired witch was sitting on Harry's right hand side. The salt and pepper were sitting by his water glass on his left.

"Oh, sorry for my bad manners, Harry," she said, reaching across his plate.

Her right hand went for the salt… her left hand aimed lower.

"Um, oh…no, worries!" he replied tightly, trying hard not to reveal her groping to either his house mates or the Hall.

She smiled, and leaned closer.

"Give your girlfriend some _'I miss you'_ looks, Harry!" she whispered.

He turned towards his best friend and began to apologize.

She shook her head (slightly, but firmly) and pointed her gaze towards his "other" girlfriend.

"Oh…right, thanks," he replied. "Guess I'm still kind of new at all this."

Harry leaned away from Hermione until he could see Susan at the Hufflepuff table. When their eyes met he smiled, and gave her a little wave.

"So, I imagine that I'll see you two at the library tonight?" Hermione asked.

Her messy-haired secret lover furrowed his eyebrows.

"Hadn't planned on it…is there some assignment that I'm forgetting about?"

"Yes, you berk…your assignment to spend some quality time with your new girlfriend!"

"Oh…right."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Harry, you really need to stay on top of these things…find ways to spend quality time with Susan. I mean, it's not like your girlfriend is a Gryff that you see all the time in your classes or the Common Room."

"Quality time…in the library?" snorted Lavender, who'd been sitting just down the table. "Only you, Hermione, would think the library was a romantic location."

Harry chuckled. "Oh, I don't know, Lavender…strolling down the long, narrow stacks hand-in-hand…rubbing your fingers up and down those…thick…books….with their ribbed…leather…bindings…"

Lavender's breath caught. "Oh…well, when you describe it that way…"

"Careful, there, Harry," Parvati joked. "Susan might get jealous, the way that you're making other witches blush."

"Nah, you've got it all wrong," said Fred, as he shouldered his way onto the bench opposite Harry. "Hermione's just all hot and bothered at the thought of Harry, here, studying a new subject, and needing some help with his homework."

Ginny had been failing miserably in her attempts to not look like she'd been eavesdropping. So nobody was really surprised when she snorted and offered up a snarky comment.

"Blind leading the blind, if that's the case."

She got as many dirty looks as laughs with her joke, with all of her brothers firmly in the first grouping.

Ron scowled, and said, "You'd better be just as blind, little sister!"

"Are you suggesting that I'm not?"

"Oh, relax, _little _brother," Fred called out. "Everybody knows that you only go blind if you're alone when you wank."

"Well that can't be right," said Ron.

"And why is that?" Hermione teased.

"Because I can see perfectly…"

Ron let his response drop when he realized what he was saying…not that anyone could have heard his sentence end above the laughter.

Once things settled down enough for his voice to be heard without shouting, Fred winked at the younger wizard.

"You know, Harry…now that you've decided on some advanced study topics…I might have some study aids for you."

Harry cocked his head to one side.

"What are you on about?"

The red-headed twin waggled his eyebrows and looked up the table, down the table, and over his shoulder. Then he pulled one of the lapels on his robes to the side, revealing an inside pocket.

"Let's see…they should be right here…."

Harry's eyes went wide and Hermione let out an "eep!" when Fred reached into the pocket and began to pull out a foil strip of Muggle condoms.

"Fred!" Harry hissed.

"What?" the older wizard teased, flashing the widest of smiles. He made a big show of pulling the strip forward, so that he could look behind it and into the pocket. Then he shook his head, pushed the condoms back down, and closed his robes.

"Oh, sorry…never mind…must have it back in the dormitory...What? You two thought I was talking about…"

George laughed. "Couldn't have been, brother of mine. Wouldn't Harry have to know what they were first…or how to use them?"

Harry let out a deep breath and growled.

Hermione sighed, and tried to calm him down by patting the top of his hand.

"I don't know if Harry should be angered or relieved that you think that to be the case," she stated. "Besides, I'm sure that he is a thoughtful, responsible boyfriend…and if there _had_ been need last night for…that kind of study aid… Harry would have discussed pregnancy prevention with his girlfriend beforehand."

Ginny shook her head dismissively. "And let me guess, Hermione….you know that's the case because you are really Harry's girlfriend, not Susan. And you were the one that talked with Harry about not wanting to get knocked up…and you were the one that rolled the raincoat onto his wand…right before you two shagged, then ran naked through the halls back to the Tower before you shagged the rest of the night in his bed."

Liquids swallowed at the wrong time flew out of noses, and giggle fits broke out down the table. Hermione scowled at the three most vociferous members of her boyfriend's Harem!Harem!Harem!

"Oh…oh…I'm sorry, Hermione," Katie gasped. "It's just such an…outrageous…story."

Alicia nodded. "Still sounds better when you tell it, Hermione."

Harry's eyebrows got lost in his hairline.

"Just what kind of stories are you telling about me, Hermione?"

His secret girlfriend smiled, and patted his thigh.

"Oh, don't worry, Harry…this morning Ginny was thinking that something wild and crazy happened after she left us alone last night. So I just told her the truth…the truth about the two of us rutting like rabbits, and running through the halls naked."

And there was much laughter.

Harry looked at his secret girlfriend as if she had just gone round the bend. Just for a moment, though…before he caught on and smiled.

"But Hermione?" he asked innocently.

"Yes, Harry?"

"We didn't run naked through the hallways, did we?"

"Er, yes, dear…you're right. Threw on our robes first."

Harry shook his head and smiled. "And what's this about raincoats?"

"Oh, Ginny was just adding to the story, boyfriend," she replied slyly. "It's no big deal,"

"That's what she said," George cracked.

Some of the other wizard laughed at the tired old riposte, but Hermione just shook her head, and decided to be a little catty.

"Hey, Ginny?"

"Yes, Hermione?"

"Are you doing extra credit projects in your Muggle Studies class?"

"Uh….no. Why?"

"Oh, well, I was just surprised…you knowing that 'raincoat' is Muggle slang for condoms."

Ginny cheeks went bright red. Her brother's eyes all narrowed.

"Erm, well…yes. Well you know …easy to overhear girls talking in the lav…or in the Quidditch locker rooms."

Seamus laughed. "Do I know any of those girls, Gin?"

The Fourth-Year turned towards the Irish wizard who'd been sitting next to her and slugged his arm. His piggish question and her response did much to divert the table's attention away from her knowledge of slang (at least until Ron thought about it later that evening, confronted his sister in the Common Room, and got a bat-bogey hex as a response).

Harry's real girlfriend let it drop, and aimed her sights on a different Weasley.

"Oh, and Fred?"

"Yes, Hermione?"

"It _is _a really big deal."

Fred chuckled. "I've suppose that you've measured it, then?"

Hermione both distracted and reassured her secret boyfriend by rubbing a hand down his thigh.

"Why Fred…haven't you been listening?" Hermione purred. "I measured Harry several times last night…measured him in several different ways…and in several different places."

"Really?"

"Yeah…which is why I know that what's in your pocket couldn't have helped us even if we had needed them."

"Why's that?"

"Because, Fred, you've got regular-sized rubbers there. Harry needs double extra-large."

This time, the comment drew laughter mixed with cat calls and moaning "whoaaaa!s"

Oh, and blushing…Harry was definitely blushing. Even more so when Susan walked up to the table.

"Hey…what's all this about?" she asked, placing an arm around each twin.

Ginny tried to get back at Hermione for the raincoat comment.

"Oh, nothing much, Susan," she called out. "Hermione was just describing how she measured your boyfriend's willie last night."

Everyone tensed up, wondering how the Hufflepuff would react to the snarky comment. Susan stared at Ginny for a moment, then caught Hermione's eyes and engaged in a bit of wordless conversation.

And then she snorted.

"Well, that's a bit of a surprise," noted Susan.

"It is?" asked Lavender.

"Yeah…I don't remember seeing a measuring stick in his bed...unless Hermione was hiding it from Harry and me in a _very _naughty place?"

The roar of laughter that followed caught the attention of the entire Hall. Until, of course, this attention was diverted by a rousing chorus of "Harem!Harem!Harem!"

That there were far more than just the three Chasers singing in this choir prompted Harry to bang his head down onto the table.


	8. Chapter 8

**The Python Defense  
**A bawdy and slightly disturbing H/Hr crack fic by canoncansodoff

**A/N**: Spam, spam, spam, spam...Crack, crack, crack, crack...

**Disclaimer:** Not my characters, no money being made, etc., etc.

**oo00OO00oo**

**Chapter 8: Broom Closets and Coconuts**

Most of the anger and frustration that Harry carried away from his second meeting with Snape and Dumbledore was tempered by the knowledge that every step further away from the Headmaster's Office was a step closer to his girlfriend.

The balance of that anger and frustration vaporized when he entered the library and spotted the familiar mass of bushy brown hair.

She was at "their" table, sitting at her normal place…facing away from the entrance, with a scenic view of the Restricted Section. The seat opposite her (aka "his" spot) was unoccupied. Susan was diagonal to Hermione, in the chair that Ron used on those relatively rare occasions when he patronized the library. And Lisa Turpin sat next to Hermione, in the chair that the Muggleborn witch always reserved as a place to stack her personal cache of books.

Harry took this to be a clear sign of Lisa's acceptance within their little group.

Susan spotted him first, and gave him the same little wave that he'd given her during dinner. This caused Lisa and Hermione to turn and smile at Harry, who smiled back. This caused all of the other female witches who were watching the scene play out to smile. Or almost all…Madame Pince's expression was much more sober, and a few others were going for more of a flirty, seductive look as Harry waded through the other tables in the study area.

"Hey there, boyfriend," Susan whispered.

"Erm…hi, Sue," the Gryffindor replied, slipping down into his chair.

The pig-tailed Hufflepuff's eyes sparkled mischievously as she leaned towards Harry and puckered her lips. Startled, he quickly glanced across the table at Hermione. She rolled her eyes and mouthed the words, "Kiss her!"

So he did. On the lips. Barely made contact with them, but it was enough to get a rise out of their audience. Harry responded to all of the giggles and gossiping with his own eye roll.

"Haven't they got anything better to do than to stalk and stare?" Harry asked.

"Probably not," Lisa replied brightly.

"Ssssshhhhh!"

Harry turned towards the scolding librarian, shrugged his shoulders, and whispered, "Sorry!" He then waited until Madame Pince turned her hawk-eye glare away from their table before he reached over the table and touched Hermione's arm.

"Can we go someplace to talk?" he whispered.

"No," Hermione hissed. "The Room is busy and there's research to be done here."

"Still looking for some suitable curse or hex for our revenge?"

"Ssssshhhh!" hissed the librarian.

Hermione winced a bit, then shrugged.

"Why is the Room busy?" Harry whispered.

"Twins are using it."

"Ssssshhhh!"

Susan leaned forward and whispered.

"So why can't we just cast a silencing spell, again?"

"Because shushing us gives Madame Pince a sense of purpose," Harry snarked.

"Sssshhhh!"

Deciding that something needed to be done, the Muggleborn witch got Harry's attention and mouthed the word "Map." He looked at her for a moment, then looked around the room…hoping that he'd be able to pull the Marauder's Map from his rucksack and whisper the activation phrase without bringing attention to himself.

This was, of course, a non-starter, as the library was filled with gossiping schoolgirls who had been gleefully giving Harry and his girlfriend their full attention from the moment he walked into the room.

"Not here," he decided, as he closed the book in front of him and pushed it towards Hermione.

**oo00OO00oo**

"Not here" turned out to be an appropriate location description for just about any place Harry and the three witches tried to go. A dozen different witches spontaneously decided that their night at the library was also done just and followed the four out of the library. Most of these girls weren't within the DA, and a few (like Pansy Parkinson) may have had more reason to follow them than a simple quest for salacious bits of gossip.

Once it was clear that they were being followed, Susan squeezed Harry's hand and whispered, "So what do we do now?"

The black-haired wizard took stock of their surroundings, and the situation. He turned to Hermione, who smiled and whispered, "Follow my lead...and do try to keep up."

Hermione and Lisa stepped in front of the hand-holding couple, and continued walking down the hallway at the same pace. When the four started to pass by a set of stairs, Hermione suddenly turned and launched herself up the steps two at a time. The other three were quick to follow. The other witches were not as fast, causing them to temporarily lose sight of the four as they reached a landing and rounded the corner.

So of course they couldn't see Hermione urge her three companions to keep going up the stairs…or see her draw her wand…or see her cast a sticking charm onto the steps behind them that caught the pursuing witches like flies on fly paper.

When Lisa reached the top of the stairs she dashed down the right-hand side corridor and urged Harry and Susan to quickly follow. She stopped at a broom closet doorway thirty feet down this hall, and pulled open the door.

"Inside!" she hissed with an arm wave.

Susan immediately followed her girlfriend's instructions and rushed into the closet, while Harry stopped and look back towards Hermione. She had just cast a new spell on the hallway floor, and was now running towards him with a manic gleam in her eye.

"Come on!" she hissed, as grabbed a handful of Harry's robes and pulled him into the broom closet behind her.

It was a tight fit which got only tighter when Harry reached back and closed the door. Funny that nobody was complaining too much.

Hermione immediately spun around to face Harry and pulled his head down into snogging range. He couldn't see much beyond her face, given the dim light, but from what Harry could hear it seemed that Susan and Lisa were doing the same, with the Ravenclaw witch standing back-to-back with Hermione.

Any worries that Harry had about being caught in a broom closet with three pretty witches was overwhelmed by the realization that _he was in a broom closet with three pretty witches!_ And any thoughts about joking on the expanded filling inside Susan's "Exception Sandwich" were tossed aside when Hermione opened the front of her robes, wrapped her leg around his bum, and began to grind hard against his crotch.

Eager to keep this point of contact, Harry reached inside Hermione's robes and grabbed her bum with both hands. He thrust forward to catch her lips with his, pushing Hermione backwards until she was pinned against Lisa's back. From what he could feel on the backs of his groping hands it was clear that Susan had the same kind of hold on her girlfriend's arse. So there was a furtive mosh pit of connectivity, with four hands groping and two bums grinding all in the same tight space.

Hermione broke off the snog for a breath of fresh (if steamy) air. She then attacked Harry's neck with her lips while she reached in between their embrace, unfastened his robes, and unzipped his trousers. He closed his eyes and groaned in pleasure when fingers met flesh.

"Ssshhhhh!"

The teen-aged wizard opened his eyes looked at the three witches who had all shushed him. Hermione shook her head slightly before relaunching her attack on his neck. Lisa smiled at Harry, then turned back towards Susan and squatted down until her nose was within nuzzling range of breasts. This left Susan and Harry facing each other, with clearance to gaze into each other's eyes and share a "_Can you believe this is happening?_" look.

Harry found it much harder to maintain eye contact with Susan when Lisa unbuttoned the pig-tailed witch's blouse and lifted her breasts out from their bra cups. Susan was trying just as hard not to let her own eyes drift down towards where Hermione was hard at work.

The Muggleborn witch smiled when she realized his predicament. She leaned forward and whispered into his ear.

"Why aren't you watching what Lisa is doing to her girlfriend?"

Harry frowned and nuzzled against Hermione's ear.

"You want me to look?"

"You didn't have any qualms in the owlry, did you?"

"No, but...that was before we...and with you here..."

"Relax, boyfriend!" Hermione cooed.

And then she did something that made it all that much harder to relax...she dropped down to her knees.

Harry's eyes followed Hermione's lips, and stayed there. So he didn't notice when Lisa followed his girlfriend's lead and dropped down onto her knees in front of Susan. And he didn't see the hemline of Susan's skirt pushed up towards her waistline, or follow the path of knickers as they were yanked down to knees, or watch as a face was buried in between thighs.

And if Harry was so focused on what Hermione was doing that he didn't take note of all that, then he certainly wasn't paying attention when a house-elf silently popped into the broom broom closet right next to Lisa and Hermione. Until, of course, that house-elf whispered into their ears, then grabbed Lisa and Hermione by the arms and spirited them away.

"What the...!"

Harry's gaze involuntarily left the spot where Hermione's lips had just been, travelled across the empty space where Hermione and Lisa had just been, and settled on the exposed bits where Lisa's lips had just been. Susan's focus shifted from the place where Hermione's lips had just been to the door, and to the muffled voices that could now be heard on the other side.

"Bugger!" she hissed. She lunged forward and pulled Harry into an embrace just as the door opened. Light spilled into the closet, followed at the speed of sound by a giggle.

"Well, well, well...what's all this then?"

**oo00OO00oo**

Harry didn't doubt the sincerity of Hermione's warm smile when she spotted his return to the Gryffindor Common Room...it was the twinkling in her eyes that betrayed her playful evil side and raised his blood pressure.

"Hey there, Harry...busy night?" she asked.

"Yeah, you could say that," he huffed.

"Did you escort your girlfriend back to her dormitory?"

"No, Ernie and Hannah insisted on doing that without my help."

Hermione closed the book that had been resting on her lap and patted the space next to her on a sofa.

"Why don't you have a seat, then, and tell me all about it?"

Harry looked around the room and took note of who else was there. He then shook his head and replied, "Might singe the ears of some of these little tykes if I did."

Parvati called out from across the room, "I've got some burn salve, if that's the only thing holding you back!"

"Ah...thanks, I'll remember that," Harry replied.

Hermione stood and took Harry's hand. "C'mon, then...let's go upstairs to your room."

Her dormmate's eyes flashed mischievously.

"Oooh...Harry, what's your girlfriend going to think about you bringing another witch into your bedroom?"

Harry rolled his eyes at Parvati's playful question.

"Who says that she's not already up there waiting for us?" he asked.

The brown-skin witch waited a few moments to answer, so that three witches far away on the other side of the castle could satisfy their sudden urge to shout in unison.

"Harem! Harem! Harem!"

**oo00OO00oo**

Harry's dormitory room was empty, but this didn't keep Hermione from climbing into his bed and casting silencing charms on the closed bed curtains once he joined her.

"Isn't this going to look suspicious?" Harry asked.

His girlfriend shrugged. "It's not something that we haven't done dozens of times before. Might seem even more suspicious if we didn't do this debriefing right after you met with Snape and Dumbledore."

Harry snorted and reached for his trouser zipper. "So...you want to debrief me Miss Granger?"

"Keep it covered, Potter...and tell me what happened."

"What happened earlier in the Headmaster's Office, or what happened after you and Lisa abandoned us and Prefect Hannah and Prefect Ernie caught me on the verge of spraying Susan's baps in the broom closet?"

"Yes," Hermione replied playfully.

"You and Lisa set that up, didn't you?"

"No...that was all Dobby's initiative."

"So he set that up?"

"No, he just was keeping an eye out for us, and for any potential trouble," Hermione explained.

"Then why didn't he take all four of us?"

"He can only take two at a time."

"Then why didn't he come back for Susan and me?"

Hermione smiled and patted the duvet. "For the same reason why Neville was allowed to catch Susan sneaking out of this very bed this morning."

"Dobby was helping us build our cover story?"

"It worked, didn't it? Now if Snape rummages through Hannah and Ernie's minds, you're covered."

Harry rolled his eyes. "It only took a bit of exposed ankle to convince Neville that Susan and I were together. Did I really need to show Hannah and Ernie my stiff willie to do the same?"

"Well, Ernie can be a bit thick at times," Hermione quipped. She then asked, "Didn't you two have enough time to cover yourselves?"

"Yeah, we did...until Ernie got all batshit territorial and yanked me out of Susan's grasp and out into the hallway."

"He didn't!"

"He did," Harry replied. "Left me out there and hanging. At least Susan's skirt dropped down quick enough to keep her fanny flashing to a minimum...not that her breasts were hanging out for all to see."

"You mean for Ernie to see?"

"No, he was too busy watching me while I stuffed it back inside my pants."

"He wasn't!" Hermione hissed with surprise.

"He certainly was watching me, the wanker," Harry whined.

"Why would he...you don't think he's gay, do you?"

"God, I hope not," Harry sighed. "We are talking about Ernie...probably just wanted to know how he measured up against The-Boy-Who-Lived."

Hermione giggled. "You boys and the need to compare yourselves!"

"Hey it wasn't me that was comparing!" Harry protested.

His girlfriend sighed and pulled him into a comforting hug. "I know, Harry...I know." She thought for a moment, then broke out into another giggle.

"What?" asked Harry.

"Nothing."

"Tell me!"

"No, I was just being catty...and wondering if Hannah would be able to make that comparison."

"Well I hope that she doesn't think that..."

"Think what, Harry?"

The teen-aged wizard shook his head. "It's just that... it was kind of cold and drafty in that hallway..."

"So?"

"So it was cold enough to take the edge off my..."

"Your erection?" Hermione teased. "So you'd calmed down a bit, but you're worried that Hannah and Ernie might think that you were really fully erect?"

"No! Well...maybe...it's just that..."

Hermione laughed, and pulled Harry into another hug.

"No worries," she said. "Susan was there, so she'll set Hannah straight about how big you really are."

Harry snorted. "Yeah, well she'd certainly know after last night."

"Is that a complaint?"

"Hell no."

"Good."

Harry paused for a moment, and then asked, "But why would Susan say anything to Hannah about my size?"

"Well, she is your girlfriend?"

"Yes, but..."

"And Hannah and Susan are friends, right?"

"So is this a common discussion topic between female friends?"

Hermione reached down and groped Harry.

"Only when it's such a _huge _discussion topic," she purred.

Harry's focus flew out the window.

"Oh, God...you left me just before...it hurt to walk back here...," he moaned.

Hermione sighed, released her grip, and scooted apart on the bed.

"Got to keep a lid on it," she noted. "We have to expect frequent bed checks the next couple of days."

"Really? So we can't..."

"You and I can't...at least not now," Hermione replied.

"What about my cloak?"

"Useful, but not fool proof...you've said more than once that you suspect that the Headmaster can see through it, right?"

"I could have been wrong?"

"Maybe later, boyfriend," Hermione stated.

"Promise?" he hopefully asked.

Hermione sighed. "So, what about your meeting with Dumbledore and Snape?"

Harry snorted.

"Now there's a erection-killing segue way," he quipped. He leaned back against the headboard and added, "The meeting started almost exactly as we predicted. Snape claimed that he was teaching me Occlumency the same brute force way that he was taught, it worked well enough for him, right?"

"And Dumbledore didn't mind?"

"Not really...just tried to take some of the blame for not discussing teaching methods in advance."

Hermione sighed. "And you need to continue your lessons, and Snape's the only one who can provide them, so he can't be sacked and forced to leave the castle?"

"They also said that Snape needs to be here to help keep tabs on what the Ministry is doing."

"By doing what...reading Umbridge's mind?"

Harry snorted, and nodded his head.

"Merlin, now there's the world's nastiest job," snarked Hermione. "Can you imagine?"

"I'm trying hard not to."

"So then...?"

"So then Dumbledore did something that we didn't expect," said Harry.

"What's that?"

"I said that if Snape wasn't going to be punished for what he did, then I wouldn't let him anywhere near my head again. That's when Dumbledore portkey'ed the three of us to Grimmauld Place for a little chat with Sirius."

"No! So what did Sirius say?"

"He said that my dad would be proud of me."

"For standing up to Snape?"

Harry snorted. "No, for bagging the MLE director's niece and having a half-dozen other witches chanting about forming a harem."

(They were too far away to hear three witches on the other side of the castle once again take up their chant).

Hermione rolled her eyes. "So what about your lessons?"

"Oh, right. Sirius told me that I needed to keep learning Occlumency, even if Snape was a greasy-haired git."

"Really?"

Harry let out a deep breath. "Yeah, I couldn't believe it. Thought he'd support me...until I realized something."

"What's that?"

"I realized that Dumbledore had made the portkey before the meeting even started, and probably had talked with Sirius before we went there tonight...and I also realized that Sirius's freedom depends on both Dumbledore and Snape keeping mum on his whereabouts."

"No!" Hermione hissed. "You really think that the Headmaster would blackmail Sirius like that?"

Harry sighed. "Yes, I do...and yes, I think he did. But...even so...I know that Sirius would have told them to sod off if he really thought my life was being put at risk by all this."

"So Sirius might have told you to keep up with the Occlumency lessons even without the blackmail?"

"Yeah, that's what I'm thinking," Harry replied. "Either that, or he was just trying to stall for time until he comes up with a better plan."

"Why would you think that?"

"Because he kept on emphasizing it," said Harry. "Said that there was plenty of _time _between now and my next lesson, and that things might look better after a week's _time_...things like that."

Hermione quietly sifted through possibilities and probabilities.

"So that's how things were left," Harry finally said. "I've got another lesson with Snape next Monday, and he's bound by magic not to reveal or act on anything he learns or has learned when he's inside my head."

"And we've got most of a week to at least plan our revenge?" Hermione added.

Harry nodded and waggled his eyebrows. "As long as some of that week can be devoted to other things."

Hermione looked at her watch and shook her head.

"Almost curfew," she noted.

Harry groaned. "But...can't we finish off what was started in the broom closet?"

Hermione smiled and shook her head. "You're on your own, I'm afraid...unless you can hold off until you see me in your dreams tonight?"

"So you think I should wait, and not take matters into my own hands?"

His girlfriend took her own turn waggling eyebrows.

"I've read that REM stage and dreaming don't start for at least seventy minutes after you've fallen asleep," she stated. "And if last night is any indication...that's more than enough time for you to recover, isn't it?"

Harry smiled. "Should be...so long as I've got some really nice dreams to stimulate me."

Hermione nodded, leaned forward, and kissed him.

"I'll see what I can do."

**oo00OO00oo**

Later that night, Harry was roused by the weight of naked flesh pressed against his naked thighs.

The owner of that naked flesh smiled as she reached down in between her legs to take hold of Harry's erection.

"Hermione? What are you…"

"Ssshhh...I'm not Hermione. I'm your dream girl, silly."

"My wha…?"

"You're dreaming, sweetheart."

"I am? But…Susan…"

Hermione smiled, wiggled forward, and rubbed just the right spot against him.

"You're such a naughty wizard…dreaming about your best friend this way."

"But….I…"

"Don't deny it, Stud," she teased. "Does Susan know that your best friend can make you this hard?"

"Erm...yeah, I think that she's seen that first hand."

"And do you think your girlfriend would mind if your dream girl best friend shags you silly?"

Harry choked on his own spittle.

"Erm...I don't think she'd mind...this is just a dream, right?"

"You keep thinking that, Stud."

Harry took the briefest of moments to consider the situation as Hermione rocked her hips back and forth. And to reflect on everything that had happened over the last twenty-four or so hours. It had been beyond brilliant…but also mostly beyond his control.

Not that he minded that Hermione had taken the initiative and joined him in his bed in the middle of the night…they never would have done ninety percent of what they'd done if she hadn't taken the initiative.

But maybe turnabout was fair play…and maybe it was time to let his aggressive Gryffindor out to play.

He growled as he reached up and pulled Hermione tight against his chest. Then he rolled her onto her back, and waggled his eyebrows at her.

"Harry…what are you doing?" she asked nervously.

"Don't play coy with me, Dreamgirl," he demanded, rubbing his length back and forth against her. "If this is a dream, and you are part of my subconscious, then you should know full well what I'm doing…and what I'm about to do."

"I…I should?"

"Unless one part of my brain thinks that the other part can't be trusted?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed slightly as she considered the situation. Upon reaching a conclusion/assessment, she smiled and waggled her own eyebrows.

"Your Dreamgirl knows what you want," she purred. Then she pushed Harry off of her and flipped over onto her stomach. She pulled her knees up underneath her body until she was on all fours, and lifted her bum up into the air.

"So give me what I know you want to give me, Stud…before you wake up."

Harry chuckled...not really surprised at Hermione's reaction. Or how she had returned his volley in their role-playing game.

Assuming, of course, that this was a real-life game, and that he really wasn't dreaming.

What was his next step, then? There were a few options there…options that were literally right under his nose. Variation #13 was a tempting choice. But that probably was too much, too soon…and if Hermione really was hinting at anal sex she probably would have followed the details of his scripted wanking fantasy, and instructed him to '_Shove that bodacious wand of yours up my bum!_'

So he decided to set his sights a little bit lower…both figuratively and literally.

And she decided to reward him for this choice…and for knowing what his Dreamgirl really wanted.…and where she wanted it.

**oo00OO00oo**

There were a hundred different thoughts and pervy memories running around Harry's head as he walked down the stairs the next morning. It was almost too bad that Snape and Dumbledore were thought to be poofs...if they fancied women and the sight of womanly flesh then they'd never get beyond the incredibly erotic surface thoughts if they tried to invade his brain.

A few less-pervy thoughts crowded their way up into his frontal lobes when Harry entered the Common Room and spotted Lee Jordan and the Weasley Twins…and their Medieval minstrel outfits…and their Medieval minstrel instruments.

"What are you three up to?" he asked.

Fred and George grinned as they swung a guitar and lute into position and Lee began to sing.

"_We were patiently waiting…for Sir Harry of Gryffindor."_

"Oh, bugger," Harry whined. "Is this for real, or am I dreaming?"

"Wouldn't think there'd be room for us in your dreams, given the size of your harem," Fred quipped.

The shout "Harem!Harem!Harem!" drifted down the the girls' dormitory stairs.

Harry shook his head, pinched himself, then yelled up the stairway.

"Hermione!"

"Coming!"

The bushy-haired witch stepped out of the stairwell a few seconds later and asked, "What's wrong, Harry?"

"A witch! A witch!" Fred and George shouted, pointing their fingers at the Muggleborn. "Build a bridge out of her!"

Hermione glanced at the two brothers and rolled her eyes.

"Yes, yes….want me to turn you into a newt?"

"No thank you."

Harry rolled his eyes. "So what were you guys doing last night?"

"We were doing research!" George protested.

"And are these kits part of that research?" Harry asked. "Does your research require you to dress funny and sing songs?"

"Geez, Harry…relax!" said Fred.

"Yeah, mate…it's not like we were expecting the Spanish Inquisition."

A jarring chord of music filled the room as Katie, Alicia and Angelina suddenly appeared wearing red capes, fake goatees and red skull caps.

"Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!" they shouted gleefully.

"Oh, bugger," Hermione sighed. "You three as well?"

Kate replied, "Nee!"

And of course the others two joined in. As did Dean and Neville once they came down the stairs.

"Nee!" "Nee!" "Nee!"

Hermione sighed and turned towards the new arrivals.

"So why aren't you two done up in costume, then?" she asked.

"Don't need costumes when you've got coconuts," Dean replied brightly. He pulled two empty halves of a coconut shell out of his rucksack and began to bang out a trotter's pace.

"Where'd you get those?" Harry asked.

"Erm…we found them," Neville replied, as he produced his own coconut shells.

"Found them…in Scotland?" quipped Harry. "But coconuts are tropical!"

"Harry!" Hermione whined. "Don't encourage them!"

"It's nothing to do with encouragement," Harry replied. "It's a simple matter of weight ratios." He then turned back to Dean and added, "Presuming, of course, that these shells were carried by swallows?"

Hermione sighed and turned her attention towards the three cardinals.

"Are all of you actually going down to breakfast dressed like that?"

Angelina looked down at her cardinal's kit, then kicked the floor, sighed, and swung her arm in an "Oh, drat!" motion.

"Yes, oh…it's not a very good costume," she agreed. "Not even from the same movie." Then she vanished her fake facial hair, then ripped open her red cardinal's robes and let them drop to the floor. The other two chasers followed suit, revealing gauzy, long-sleeved full-length gowns underneath.

"There, that's better," she declared, as they all added a veil-draped hat to their costumes.

"The cardinal costumes were Zoot's idea," Katie grinned, pointing towards Alicia. "Wicked, bad, naughty, Zoot!"

"Oh yes. Zoot is a naughty person, and must pay the penalty!" Angelina declared.

Fred chimed in, "And you know we have but one punishment in this Castle, right Harry?"

The black-haired wizard did know, if fact. But that didn't keep the Chasers from reminding him.

"You must tie her down to a bed and spank her," Katie declared. "And then you must spank me as well."

"And spank me, Harry!"

"And spank me!"

"Yes," said Katie, "you must give us all a good spanking. And after the spanking…."

"The oral hex?" Hermione asked sharply, as she aimed her wand towards the three witches.

Ron added his own closure to the scene when he burst out of the stairwell with his shirt tails half-out and his hair disheveled. Taking absolutely no notice of kits or coconuts, he asked, "So, I haven't missed brekkers, then?"

Hermione glanced at her wrist watch and shook her head.

"We've probably kept Susan and the others waiting," she decided. Then she turned to the three Chasers and asked, "So this is what you're really wearing to breakfast then?"

Angelina responded by reaching into her book bag and pulling out her "Dreamgirl" button. She smiled, and pinned it to her gown. The other two did the same, then formed up in rows behind Hermione.

"Every harem needs an official uniform," Katie explained, as they made their way through the portal.

"Harem! Harem! Harem!"

"So that means that Susan and the others are…."

Hermione's unfinished question was answered by the matching smiles and maiden gowns worn by the three witches who were waiting patiently in front of the Fat Lady's portrait.

"Oh, bugger," she muttered.

"Good morning, sweetheart!" Susan said brightly, as she walked up to Harry and pulled him into a tight embrace.

Susan's "boyfriend" was ready for this bit of staged intimacy. But what he wasn't ready for was Lisa walking up to Hermione and giving her a hug.

"Good morning, Sister!" she lovingly gushed.

Luna followed suit and dived into a group hug with the Chasers.

"Good morning, Sisters!"

Ron gawked at all of the hugging with disbelief…and a bit of lust.

Fred and George put a tune behind their own bit of lusty disbelief.

"_Bow-chicka wow wow…bow-chicka wow wow…"_

Harry's head turned sharply towards the twins.

"What did you two just say?"

The Weasley brothers repeated the bit of sung verse, adding in some improvised hip thrusting choreography.

"_Bow-chicka wow wow…bow-chicka wow wow…"_

"Bloody hell!" Harry swore. "Hermione…I thought you just set them up with Python videos?"

"Language, Harry!" she chided. "And I did! I checked and made sure that those other tapes were locked up before I left."

"Those other tapes, Hermione? And what kind of tapes were _those other_ tapes?"

The bushy-haired witch chewed on her lower lip for a moment as she surveyed the group's expressions. Fred and George were waggling their eyebrows. Luna and the Chasers were giggling.

Ron didn't have a clue what was being discussed, however…and Hermione was inclined to keep it that way. So she sighed, gave Harry a guilty look, and whispered her confession.

"Bow-chicka wow wow movies."

Harry's breath caught in his throat, leaving the highly amused Hufflepuff who was still in his arms and had overheard to reply.

"Wicked, bad, naughty, Hermione!" Susan teased.

"A spanking! A spanking! A spanking!" shouted the Chasers.

Luna nodded. "And after the spanking, the oral sex!"

"Too silly!" Ron grumbled, oblivious to what Luna had just suggested. He walked up to Harry and began roughly pulling him by the arm down the hallway. "C'mon Harry, we're going to miss breakfast."

"No, that's okay, Ron," Harry snarked. He looked back towards the witches and claimed, "I can tackle this lot single-handed."

"Yes! Yes!" Katie shouted. "Let him handle us single-handed!"

Susan shook her head and budged in between Harry and Ron.

"There will be no single-handing, no spankings, and no oral sex."

"Oh, shit!" Angelina whined.

"Breakfast!" Ron whined.

"Dobby?" Susan called out.

The house-elf immediately appeared by her side.

"What cans Dobby be doing for Mr. Harry Potter Sir's Girl-Girl friend?"

Susan blushed at Dobby's description, and hoped that anyone who did not know the truth assumed that the house-elf was stuttering.

"Dobby will you please give Hermione and Harry their outfits?"

"Rights away, Missie Girl-Girl friend!"

Hermione and Harry were both in too good of a mood to protest as their robes were transfigured. Hermione was given a gown befitting her station as a harem maiden from Castle Anthrax, while Dobby insisted that Harry wear a crown, chain mail, and a white tunic trimmed in gold, with a frowning sun emblazoned on its chest.

Ron frowned at Harry's outfit. He turned towards Dean and asked, "Who's he, then?"

The Muggleborn smiled, and replied, "Must be a king."

"Why?"

"He hasn't got shit all over him."

Neville rolled his eyes as he stepped up and offered to be Harry's squire. He agreed, and they all began to clip-clop down the hallway towards the Great Hall.

Harry and Hermione thought that they were getting off easy when Fred and George stayed quiet over the first half of their walk. But as they got closer to the Great Hall and began to pass by other students, Fred, George and Lee proved that they were merely waiting for a bigger audience when they began to sing to a familiar melody.

_"Sexy stud Sir Harry, walked forth from Gryffindor...__  
He was not afraid to share, oh sexy Harry!__  
He was not at all afraid to confess his lusty dreams.__  
Brave, brave, brave, Sexy Harry!"  
_

_"He was not afraid to say that he perved on Daphne's pics,  
__Or to tell Hermione that he peeked under her skirts._  
_He dared reveal the shower scene where he rubbed our Chasers bits,  
Then rubbed his own John Thomas till it was raw..."_

_"That he ran bare-arsed naked with a pretty young miss, and got very stiff when she squatted and pissed,"_

_"That he wanks every night to the fantasy, of his girlfriend acting a little lezzie..."_

_"That he dreams of Sue as she wiggles her tongue, in those womanly places where babies come from..."_

_"That she grinds her muff, and..."_

"That's - - that's, uh, that's enough music for now, lads," Susan decided.

"Right," agreed Lee. "Well then…shall we sing about Snape instead?"

"Must you?"

Fred and George looked at each other for a moment, then turned towards Susan and sang some more.

"_Severus Snape deserves to be mashed into a pulp,__  
And to have his eyes gouged out, and his elbows broken.__  
To have his kneecaps split, and his body burned away,  
__And his limbs all hacked and mangled, Severus Snape!"_

_"His head smashed in and his heart cut out,  
And his liver removed and his bowels unplugged,  
And his nostrils ripped and his bottom burned off,  
And his penis—"_

"That's - - that's, uh, that's really enough for now, lads," Harry interrupted, as they reached the entrance to the Great Hall. "Unless you want to completely turn every one's stomachs off to breakfast?"

Fred and George sighed, and settled for clomping coconuts.

The group's dramatic entrance caught every-one's attention within the Great Hall.

Some laughed. Some frowned in confusion. A few fumed.

And one person began to mentally draft Educational Decree Number Forty-five.

oo00OO00oo

A/N2: If I had to acknowledge and footnote every single line of this story directly lifted from Python then my total word count would be twice as big. Not trying to pass this off as original writing...just paying tribute to all of those Python fans out there (like me) who are geeky enough to incorporate bits of Python dialogue into their everyday conversations. Maybe not as many people as those who use "Caddyshack" for inspiration ("It's in the hole! It's in the hole!), but enough. That said, I probably should acknowledge that the Snape version of Sir Robin's song is almost completely and contiguously stolen from "Monty Python and the Holy Grail".


	9. Chapter 9

**The Python Defense  
**A bawdy and slightly disturbing H/Hr crack fic by canoncansodoff

**A/N**: Spam, spam, spam, spam...Crack, crack, crack, crack...Although, the fact that I've rewritten the opening section of this chapter three different times might mean that I'm taking this story far too seriously for my own good. Also, this was the chapter that spawned _"Gamp's Finest Blend of Pretend."_ This version of Hermione's basement is a bit different, and I've ignored Gamp's law to keep the plot line of this fic (such that it is) moving forward.

**Disclaimer:** Not my characters, no money being made, etc., etc.

**oo00OO00oo**

**Chapter 9: Home, Sweet Home**

Harry needed a firm hand to keep him in his chair that evening, and to remind him that a proper fake boyfriend wouldn't leave his fake girlfriend behind in the library just because his real girlfriend and his fake girlfriend's real girlfriend had gathered their things and announced that they were calling it a night.

Harry also needed a firm elbow in his ribs to silently remind him that a proper fake boyfriend doesn't ogle his real girlfriend's cracking arse as she walks away from him...at least not as long as he is sitting next to his fake girlfriend.

"Hey!" Susan hissed.

The Boy-Who-Lived snorted, then turned and gave the pig-tailed witch his best attempt at an apologetic look.

"Sorry."

"Ssshhhussh!"

Harry rolled his eyes, and scribbled a question down on a piece of parchment. Susan looked at the passed note, then scribbled a response. He read the response and nodded.

Ten minutes later, Susan began to gather her things into her book bag. This time Harry got it right, and followed her lead under the watchful eye of the school librarian and a gaggle of doe-eyed girls.

A look over his shoulder as they left the library caused Harry to roll his eyes.

"How many following us this time?" asked Susan.

"Just two."

The red-haired Hufflepuff glanced back towards the young witches whose robes were trimmed in green and silver. Then she leaned towards Harry and whispered, "They could be just heading back to their dorm?"

Harry sighed. "Or they could be Snape's little spies."

Susan smiled and squeezed his hand. "Shall we put on a little show, then? I know a broom closet that's big enough for four."

Her fake boyfriend chuckled, and shook his head.

"Nothing wrong with me walking my girl back to her dormitory, right?"

"Of course not."

They continued walking at a measured pace, with the two witches trailing ten feet behind.

"This is nice," Susan noted. "Almost like it's just the two of us."

"What...didn't care for the coconuts?"

"Wouldn't matter if I did, given the latest Educational Decree," Susan snarked. "I still can't believe that Umbridge banned galloping in the hallways."

"Well I'm just disappointed that McGonagall didn't need a Decree to demand that we switch out of our costumes before classes began this morning."

"You mean you liked being king?"

"Not as much as I liked watching my harem walk around in their silky gowns," Harry joked.

The two young witches who trailing behind the couple giggled, and called out, "Harem! Harem! Harem!"

Incredulous disbelief showed on Harry's face as he stopped in his tracks and spun around.

"What was that?" he demanded.

The Slytherins looked at each other, giggled a bit more, than chanted, "Harem! Harem! Harem!"

"Yeah, okay...I know that's what you said," Harry flustered. "But..."

"How old are you two?" Susan asked.

"We're first years," one of the girls replied.

The older witch chuckled. "Aren't you two a little young to be applying for membership in Harry's Harem?"

"Harem! Harem! Harem!"

"Right...stop that!" Harry demanded.

"Don't want to," the slightly taller witch replied.

"Yeah, they are paying out a sickle each time we do it," the other added.

"Who...who is paying you to do what?"

"Your Chaser teammates...they are paying us to follow you around and chant whenever you or someone that you're with says the word 'harem'," the first witch explained.

This prompted the other girl to call out "Harem! Harem! Harem!"

Her friend frowned, and shook her head. "Margaret...I don't think it counts if we say it first."

"Oh."

Harry sighed. "I can't believe that those three would...I mean, paying Slytherins? Who would have expected that?"

Susan giggled. "Harry...you should know by now that nobody expects The Spanish Inquisition."

Her faux boyfriend paused for the jarring chord of music that someone had magically keyed to that phrase. He was actually disappointed that three witches dressed in cardinal's robes didn't subsequently appear...it would have given him a chance to throttle the Chasers for their cheek.

"So, whenever you two are ready?" asked one of the Slytherins.

The raven-haired wizard stared at the young witches and swore under his breath.

"Language!" Susan chided brightly.

"Yes, Dear," Harry snarked. He stared a bit more at their shadows, then shook his head, took Susan's hand, and turned away from the Slytherins.

"Shall we, then?" he asked.

Susan smiled and nodded. "We shall."

They remainder of their journey down to Susan's dormitory was completed in silence...so long as you didn't count Harry's huffing and puffing, or the odd giggle or two. Mindful of their audience (and still wary of their audience's intentions), Harry pulled up just short of the entrance to Hufflepuff House and pulled Susan into a hug.

"Good night, sweetheart," he said, placing a chaste kiss on her cheek.

Susan giggled, and looked over Harry's shoulders towards the two Ickle Firsties.

"Would you like to come in for a bit?" she asked.

"You're inviting me inside...inside your dormitory?" asked Harry.

"Well, it's only fair for me to return the favor after I visited yours," Susan whispered.

"Funny, I don't remember me offering an invitation to pop into my bed."

"Is that a complaint?"

Her fake boyfriend was about to snap back a perfunctory "Hell, no!" when he realized that that might not be a "good boyfriend" kind of response. He hoped that an enigmatic smile would serve as both a safe and sufficient response.

Susan took the smile as an acceptance to her invitation and turned towards the still life painting that guarded the dormitory entrance. A large colorful bouquet of flowers filled the canvas (in contrast to the fruit bowl in front of the kitchens). When she placed her hand against the center of a yellow sunflower its petals contracted around it (Harry couldn't tell whether it was her hand that partially disappeared into the painting, or the petals that magically lifted off the canvas and enveloped her hand). Either way, the painting recognized Susan's right to gain access and swung free from the entrance (once the petals freed her hand).

"Would I get my fingers back if I tried that trick?" asked Harry.

Susan waggled her eyebrows as she grabbed his hand and led him through the barrel-shaped threshold. "Please don't try...I'm rather fond of your fingers."

Harry took one last look back at the young Slytherin witches, smiled, and whispered, "Harem."

"Harem! Harem! Harem!"

"Why did you do that?" Susan asked, as she closed the door.

"Because it cost those three troublemakers another sickle," Harry replied. "Maybe if I say harem enough times they'll run out of money?"

"Harem! Harem! Harem!"

Susan and Harry rolled their eyes as they turned around and traced the new source of this old chant back to the smiling face of a witch sitting by the fire.

"Oh, Merlin," Susan whined. "Are the Gryffs paying you too?"

Megan Jones shook her head. "No, I'm just offering some encouragement."

"Why" asked Harry.

"Because I'd like to apply for a position in the harem."

"What kind of position?"

"Oh, your choice, Sweetheart...missionary, doggy-style, reverse cowgirl..."

"Back off, Megan...he's mine!" Susan snapped.

The Fifth-Year witch chuckled and shook her head a bit dismissively. "Of course he is, Dear."

Susan scowled as she dragged Harry through the loose arrangements of comfortable armchairs, towards one of two perfectly round tunnel entrances that had been chiseled into the wall opposite the fireplace.

"Need any help getting your door closed, Susan?" asked Megan.

"Thanks but no thanks," the pig-tailed witch replied tersely.

Harry was himself worried about closed doors, and what might happen if he tried to follow Susan into what he assumed was the Hufflepuff girls' dormitory. But he also assumed that she knew what she was doing, and was therefore only mildly surprised when klaxons weren't triggered and he wasn't spat back into the Common Room when he followed Susan across the threshold.

The long narrow tunnel was tall enough for Harry to walk through without crouching, but round enough to keep them from walking side-by-side. Susan took the lead out of necessity...not that Harry minded all that much, given the pleasant sway in his pretend girlfriend's gait. He only felt a little guilty about the ogling, though...he did have a role to play, right?

Torches cast out a warm light from wall-mounted sconces set at regular intervals down the length of the tunnel. Facing side tunnels branched out every ten feet or so, leading to sleep quarters that were only big enough to accommodate one or two people...which, given the large number of branching tunnels, made sense.

Once glance down a side tunnel and into a bedroom offered up a revealing view of a Sixth-Year witch, who smiled back at Harry, and didn't seem to much mind the fact that he'd caught her in just her bra and knickers.

"Eyes forward, Harry," Susan whined.

"Yes, Dear...sorry, Dear," he snarked. "You sure this is okay...me being here?"

"You mean you being in Hufflepuff House, or you being in the girls' dormitory?"

"Either."

"You're a trustworthy kind of guy...right Harry?"

"Erm yeah, I guess...but that doesn't mean I can visit the girls dormitory in my house."

Susan looked back and rolled her eyes. "Is that so?"

"Erm...well...at least the stairs are charmed to keep boys out."

"But not the other way, huh?"

Harry shrugged. "Don't ask me."

Susan nodded as she acknowledged a Third Year Hufflepuff witch and a Third Year Ravenclaw wizard who were sitting on the tunnel floor as they chatted, then apologized as she stepped over their outstretched legs.

"There, see? You're not the only one here," she noted.

"Yeah, but are you the only one for Harry?" the younger witch snarked.

"Hush!" Susan scolded. "Here we are," she then added, leading Harry down one of the side tunnels.

The raven-haired wizard needed to duck his head to clear the smallish entrance at the end of this short tunnel, and to enter a room that contained two four-poster beds. It was obviously a girl's room, based on the quantity of chintz and pastel colors.

"Home, sweet home," said Susan.

Harry nodded as he took a closer look at the furnishings and decor.

"That's your bed, then?" he asked.

"What makes you think that, sweetheart?"

"Erm...maybe it's that poster of me surviving the Second Task hanging next to it?"

Susan smiled as she led Harry by hand towards that bed and patted the duvet.

"Can you blame me?" she asked brightly.

Harry sighed as he examined the magically animated image more closely.

"No, actually...think it's Colin that I need to blame for that one."

"How did you know he took that photograph?"

"Because he's got the same bloody poster hanging above his bed?"

Susan chuckled and pointed towards the image of Harry helping Ron out of the water. "Can you blame him?" she asked. "That was a rather snug fitting swim costume, and with the thing you'd miss most being a boy...rather than a girl..."

"Hey, I didn't have any say over that," Harry complained. "Bloody Headmaster."

"There, there...I'm just teasing. Nobody's doubting your sexual preferences these days, given the size of your... entourage..."

"Harem! Harem! Harem!"

"Oh, bollocks!" Susan hissed. She jumped off of the bed, strode towards the opened doorway and shouted, "I didn't even say Ha...that word."

"No, but you were thinking it," a female voice called back.

Harry tried to change the subject.

"So...nice room...Hannah is your roommie?"

"Yeah," Susan replied. "Got lucky there...Megan can be such a cu...I mean Unpuff... sometimes.

"Megan Jones?" asked Harry. "So what was she talking about back in your Common Room?"

"You mean about help with the door?"

"No...about being a reverse cowgirl," Harry teased.

Susan shook her head dismissively as she walked towards her chest of drawers and opened the top one. "And I should know?"

"Fair enough...so what about closed doors?"

The Fifth-Year witch looked back over her shoulder towards the opened entrance to her room. Then she smiled, and kicked off her shoes.

"It's one of the hard and fast rules that we do have in the house," she explained. "Can't have the door closed if you have a boy visiting you without somebody else in the room."

"Oh, well that makes...sense," Harry replied, distracted by his fake girlfriend as she bent down and grabbed the hem of her robes.

"So what are you doing?" he asked.

"Changing," Susan replied slyly, as she gathered her robes and lifted them towards her waist.

Harry's breath caught as the pretty Hufflepuff's thick black tights were exposed, his mind drifting back to the previous day's tour of a broom closet.

"Should I...want me to step out?" he squeaked.

"Why?" Susan asked, taking hold of the elastic waist of her tights. "It's nothing you haven't already seen."

"Erm...not really...it was kind of dark..."

"Even when we were dragged out into the hallway by Hannah and Ernie?"

An even bigger breath of air caught in Harry's lungs as Susan matter-of-factly pulled down her tights and stepped out of them. The hem of her robes had dropped along with her hands...but not fast enough to keep Harry from seeing a whole lot of pale white flesh.

"But that was an accident..." he muttered.

"Yeah, an accident caused by the only two people who might otherwise have a right to complain," Susan huffed, throwing the tights into a dirty clothes bin. "But relax," she added, "I change under my robes like this all the time."

"Really?"

"Well...whenever the door has to stay open."

"So...you've had other boys in here?"

"Why wouldn't I have?"

"Because you're a...erm..."

"Because I'm a Puff, and Puffs are friendly and convivial?" Susan asked a bit sharply.

"Erm...right, exactly. You're very convivial," said Harry.

"And so are you, boyfriend," Susan replied. "How could you not be, given the size of your..."

"Don't even think it!" Harry hissed.

"Harem! Harem! Harem!"

"Oops, too late," quipped Susan.

Harry watched with more than passing interest as his pretend girlfriend rummaged through her chest of drawers.

"Ah...here we go," she announced brightly, as she pulled out a pair of lacy green knickers. She stretched them out in front of her waist and spun to face Harry.

"What do you think, Loverboy...they match your eyes?"

"They do?"

"Oh, yes," Susan purred.

"Well they're...they're very nice."

"Good," Susan replied, as she sat down on the bed next to Harry.

He quickly averted his eyes as as she leaned forward, stepped into the knickers, and shimmied them up her thighs and over her hips.

"Oh, Sweet Merlin!" he hissed.

"What?"

"I'm...I'm assuming that you just didn't slip one pair of knickers over another?"

"Why would I do that, you silly boy?"

"Then you weren't wearing knickers today?"

Susan giggled. "I don't like panty lines very much...do you?"

"Erm..."

Harry was saved from answering (and saved from additional embarrassment) when Hannah walked into the room.

Or so he thought.

"Hey, Susan...oh, hi Harry."

"Oh, hi Hannah...great, you're just in time."

"Just in time for what?" Harry whispered.

"Harem! Harem! Harem!"

"It wasn't me thinking that this time!" Susan proclaimed. "Do close the door, would you Han? That chant is getting tiresome."

The blonde-haired witch laughed as she pushed the door shut. "And you don't think I've been offered a sickle per chant as well?"

"No, I think that you're too good of a friend to tease me that way. That, or else my boyfriend might be a dear and offer you two sickles each time that you don't," Susan replied, as she unfastened her robes and let them drop to the floor.

The latter action kept Harry from forming a snarky comeback to the former statement.

Susan acted as if it were the most natural thing in the world for her to slip off her blouse in his presence, and to then sip her bra straps off of her shoulders.

"Unhook me?" she asked.

"Erm...you really need my help?" asked Harry.

"You really want to question my need?" Susan replied.

"Good point," Harry replied, as he reached up and unfastened the two bra hooks.

"Thanks, hon," Susan replied, as she slouched forward and slipped off her bra.

Harry had no problems acting as if he was excited by Susan standing there dressed only in her knickers. Because he was...he was a very good pretend boyfriend. Yeah. Pretend excitement. That was it.

Susan couldn't help but turn towards Harry when she saw Hannah's eyes go wide. She couldn't help but giggle as she watched Harry try to hide the evidence of his excitement with a well-placed throw pillow. That giggling created some bare-breasted jiggling, which couldn't help but to make the "problem" even more pronounced.

"Oh, geez...get a room, you two," Hannah snarked.

"We did," Susan quipped. "But then you showed up." Taking pity on Harry, she turned away from him and quickly slipped on a pair of gray sweatpants and a very familiar crimson-colored shirt.

"Hey, is that...?" asked Hannah.

"Yeah, Harry is such a sweetie, letting me sleep in his Quidditch jersey," said Susan, as she spun around and showed her roommate the name and number embroidered on the back.

"Very nice," Hannah said with a sigh. She cast a _Tempus_ spell, then asked, "You two going to..."

"Not as far as you know," Susan replied.

"Erm, right...time for he to head back to the Tower," Harry announced.

"Oh, you don't have to leave," said Hannah. "I can change under my robes and hide behind my bed curtains just as easily as..."

"Just as easily as I do when Ernie is visiting?" asked Susan.

The question got the intended flushed cheeks reaction.

Harry's mind was about to explode, given where he was and what he'd seen and heard. He really needed to find someplace safe...someplace where the odds of Hermione not kicking his arse weren't quite so close to certainty.

"No that's okay. I really do need to head back to my dorm," he stated.

Susan slipped on a pair of slippers and said, "I'll walk you out, then."

Harry bid Hannah good night as his fake girlfriend led him by the hand back out into the hallway. He, in turn, pulled Susan into the first unoccupied side tunnel and cast an area-based silencing charm.

"How did you get my jersey?" he asked.

"Hermione gave it to me."

"How did she get...never mind. Why is she letting you wear it?"

"She said that she now had something better to wear when she goes to bed."

"What's that?"

"A smile."

"Oh. Well...I guess that's okay..."

"I would think so," Susan teased. "Look, you know what we're trying to do here...and if your girl clears it in advance..."

"What about your's?"

"My what?"

"Your girl."

"Oh. Well...our girls are together right now scheming, so it's got to be okay, right?"

"But you don't know for sure."

"Well...not that safe for the two of us to be seen together, given...you know..."

"Why not? I'm sure Air Dobby can drop you naked into her bed just as easily as he does mine."

"Just so we can get caught by Cho or Marietta?" Susan asked. She shook her head and added, "Lisa says those two have been snooping around her dormitory room big time ever since your lesson with Snape. Wouldn't at all be surprised if they were told about what he saw."

"Great," Harry sighed. "Just the same, I would like the four of us to talk things through."

"Me too," agreed Susan. "Say...they're in the Room of Requirement right now with the rest of the..."

It was only the strength of Harry's silencing spell that kept the Chasers from shelling out another sickle.

"Thought she was just setting the Twins up for another movie night?" asked Harry.

Susan shook her head. "No, she said she was going to show _Life of Brian_ tonight, and figured that she'd have to stick around to explain all of the cultural and religious references."

Harry chuckled. "You mean that cheesemakers aren't just as blessed in the Wizarding World?"

Susan shook her head. "I imagine that would be funnier if I were Muggleborn?"

"Right...I see what you mean."

"So what do you think...I could meet you there in a few minutes?"

"I've got my cloak with me," Harry countered. "We could just sneak out together?"

"No...you need to be seen leaving the dormitory alone. And there's a ward that keeps track of us House members as we enter or leave, so I better get Dobby's help once I'm behind my bed curtains."

Harry thought for a moment, then shook his head. "Might be more convincing if you do slip out alone under my cloak. Dumbledore and Snape both know about it, and might figure we'd be using it inappropriately."

Susan giggled. "What's so inappropriate for a boyfriend and girlfriend wanting some alone time?"

"Exactly," Harry replied brightly, as he reached into his bag and handed over his Hallow. Susan held the ephemerally shimmering garment in her hand, then looked down at her present attire. Lacking pockets, she figured the safest thing to do would be to slip it down the front of her pants.

"Hey," Harry glibly chided. "Shouldn't I by rights at least have a hand inside that cloak when it gets inside your knickers?"

"Hush!" Susan replied, lightly smacking him in the shoulder. "Now lets get out to the common room, where I can give my boyfriend a proper good night kiss."

"Wouldn't want it to be improper, would we?"

Susan rolled her eyes. "Only if Megan is in the audience."

"Why her?"

"Don't think she's quite convinced about our relationship," Susan explained.

"Oh, yeah...even I picked up on that when we came in," said Harry. He let out a faux sigh and added, "Well, it's for a good cause, right?"

"So, is protecting a secret all you get out my kisses, Mr. Potter?"

"Gah...how am I supposed to answer that without either you, Lisa or Hermione hurling a _Reducto_ towards my bits?"

Susan laughed and shook her head. "You are a very good actor, Harry...and Hermione is a very lucky witch."

"Well, you are a very good actress, Susan...and Lisa is a very lucky witch."

"Right, so now that we've clarified those points?"

"You know, this isn't really fair," Harry observed

"How is that?"

"Well if Megan is out there, and we need to convince her with a really steamy snog...much easier for me to pretend you're Hermione than for you to imagine me as your girlfriend."

"Because?"

"Because you've got the same bits as Hermione," said Harry. He snorted, then added, "More or less."

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that last part," said Susan. "As for the rest...well, I haven't had problems playing this role so far."

"Even when I hold you close, and our chests mash together, and I...I react?"

Susan smiled. "It's your lips, Harry...I focus on your lips. They're just as soft as Lisa's. And as for the difference in bits...well, let's just say that one of us is far more likely to reach for the strap-on."

"Say no more!"

"Is that another Python line?"

"Yes, but no...really...please don't say any more...it's making it hard for me keep a lid on...well, getting hard."

Susan waggled her eyebrows as her eyes drifted south.

"Is that a leftover codpiece from this morning's march, or are you just happy to see me?"

"Minx!"

"Is that a complaint?"

"I'll let you know after we have that chat with our girlfriends."

"No worries," Susan replied. "All part of the role...you'd still have a semi if it'd been Hermione who'd flashed her titties in your face a few minutes ago, right?"

Harry chuckled, and nodded towards Susan's chest. "Erm...right. Just like your nipples would still be this hard if it'd been Lisa who'd been perving on you a few minutes ago?"

Susan sighed. "And now that we've got those points clarified..."

"Your points look more perky than clarified to me..."

"Harry?"

"Right...time for my dramatic exit," he declared. "I'll even lead you onto the stage so that you get equal time."

"Equal time doing what?"

"Admiring the view."

"Does that mean that you were admiring the view when you were walking behind me?"

"Erm...a boyfriend would be expected to admire that kind of view, right?"

Susan giggled. "Yes, that's right. How could I forget?"

Harry let the question go unanswered as he cancelled the silencing spell and stepped into the hallway.

Megan Jones was still in the Common Room, prompting the two to put on a very convincing performance in front of the threshold...the kind of snog so intense that Megan needed no further evidence of where Harry and Susan's relationship stood.

And the kind of snog that could cause a chorus of very small voices to chant out, "Harem, Harem, Harem," in the back of Susan's brain.

**oo00OO00oo**

That tiny chorus had gone silent by the time that Susan entered the Seventh Floor hallway under Harry's cloak of invisibility (and thankfully so, as far as she was concerned). She found him standing in front of the Room of Requirement, closely inspecting the portrait that hung on the side opposite. She smiled as she slipped off the cloak and suddenly appeared in his peripheral vision.

"Waiting for your girlfriend, Harry?"

He snorted. "If you think I was going to face our girlfriends alone..."

"What's to worry about?" Susan asked.

"Erm, right," Harry replied, noting that she was still wearing his tight-fitting Quidditch jersey. And nothing under it, from what he could tell.

She noticed where his eyes had drifted and smiled. "Still have roles to play on the other side, so long as the Twins are there...right?"

Harry shrugged. "Maybe. Those two are plenty smart and very perceptive when they choose to be."

"And what if your buddy Ron is there?"

"Then he'll be watching your chest far more than the movie, I'm afraid."

"Right...can't be helped," Susan declared. She turned towards the doorway and asked, "So she didn't hide it this time?"

"No, I think she did," Harry replied. "Didn't appear until I approached it."

"In case we wanted to catch a movie as well?"

"One way to find out," he replied. Grabbing Susan's hand, he opened the door and walked into what Hermione had really needed earlier that evening.

Harry was surprised by his real girlfriend's sense of interior design. It was a large room with Muggle decor and furnishings, wall-to-wall carpeting, and a relatively low ceiling. There was a ping pong table set up right in front of the them, close enough to block the Room's door from freely swinging inward. To their right, a large group of students were gathered in front of what appeared to be a Muggle entertainment system, laughing at the animated antics of Wile E. Coyote and the Roadrunner while they snacked on popcorn and fizzy drinks.

A dartboard and arcade-style stand-alone Pac-man game were standing against the far wall, on either side of a door-sized opening and a set of carpeted stairs that led upwards. A wet bar was set up on their left, complete with brass rails, bar stools, and hanging wine glasses. Hermione was standing behind the bar, pouring fruit into a blender as she chatted with Lisa Turpin. The two witches waved for Susan and Harry to join them.

Lisa stared at the Quidditch jersey for a moment, then shook her head and sighed.

"Hey, nice shirt."

"Thanks," Susan replied a bit nervously.

"What are you two doing here?" asked Hermione.

"Avoiding Hannah," Susan sighed.

"She catch you two in a broom closet again?" Lisa smirked.

Harry snorted. "No...she caught us in her dormitory, and was probably expecting us to act like it was a broom closet if we stayed there any longer." He then nodded towards the blender and asked, "What do you have going there?"

"I'm making a batch of virgin daiquiris."

"Do you have to be a virgin to drink one?" Harry teased.

"Oh, hush, you!" his girlfriend chided, as Susan and Harry pulled out bar stools on either side of Lisa's.

"Nice place, Hermione," Susan offered.

"Yeah, real comfy," Harry said with a grin. "Thought we were supposed to be doing research, though."

"We are."

"How?"

"By watching penguins on the telly," Hermione replied. "And don't complain, because it's all your fault."

"How is it my fault?

"You told the Twins about the Python Defense, and they wanted to watch the original source material."

Harry looked around at the Room's decor and asked, "So why aren't we in a movie theater right now?"

Hermione shrugged. "Because some of us aren't old enough to get into a theatre showing an M-rated movie?"

"So...?"

"So the Room recreated the spot where I got my first dose of Monty Python...the basement in my parent's house."

"Movie night at the Granger's?" Harry teased.

Hermione smiled. "Home, Sweet Home...Complete with a functional Muggle entertainment system and a rather complete video collection."

"Complete with bow-chicka bow wow movies, then?"

"Never you mind."

"How about your parents? Are they lurking around?"

"Let's assume that they're not," said Hermione. "Makes it easier for me to risk raiding Dad's liquor cabinet."

Susan shook her head and smiled. Taking a look back over her shoulder, she asked, "Not the entire DA, then?"

"No, just the entourage."

Alicia, Katie, and Angelina all glanced back towards the bar and gleefully shouted, "Harem! Harem! Harem!"

Harry chuckled. "Well, at least they didn't have to pay for that one."

"What?" asked Hermione.

"Tell you later," Harry replied. He nodded back towards the other side of the room and asked, "Thought you were doing the Hogwarts premiere of _Life of Brian_ tonight?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I gave up half-way through...it had gotten to the point where I was stopping the movie every ten seconds to explain to the purebloods why the rest of us were laughing."

Harry smiled, and nodded his head. "Only half-way, then?"

"Yeah, why?"

"So Ron didn't get the chance to cream his jeans when Judith goes Full Monty?"

"Full Monty?" asked Susan.

"Different film," Hermione stated. "And no, we didn't make it that far. Just as well, I think...with as snarky as the Chasers are acting they would have used the balcony scene as inspiration for tomorrow morning's breakfast costumes."

"And that would be a bad thing?" asked Lisa.

"Only if more than Harry was kitted out that way."

Harry rolled his eyes. "So I don't get to follow along and beg for the welease of Woderick?"

"Would you like to spur on the Chaser's imagination, Harry?"

"Don't think they need any spurring."

"Oh yes, please...spur me, Harry!" Katie shouted out.

"And spur me!" added Luna.

"And me!" said Angelina and Alicia.

"And then," all four declared in unison, "the oral..."

Hermione drowned out the predictable request by turning the blender up to its highest speed.

"So let's hear more about this Python Defense," said Susan. "I feel kind of bad, not knowing the nickname of my boyfriend's willie."

Harry sputtered, "The Python Defense isn't a defense of my…it's not….not like I've named it…."

"Not a bad nickname, actually," Hermione teased.

"No it isn't," agreed Susan. "Although, given his size, _'The Basilisk Defense'_ might be more appropriate."

"Susan!" Lisa hissed.

"What? I'm just saying…from an objective viewpoint…"

"And exactly how close was that viewing point, Susie?" Lisa asked.

"You should know, Lisa…you were in that broom closet with us."

"But it was too dark to see anything!"

"Not once you two popped out and Ernie pulled Harry and his basilisk out into the hall way."

"Is that a complaint?" Hermione teased.

"No…just an observation," Susan replied brightly. She then turned towards Lisa and quietly asked, "So what's all this concern about…you were in the closet with us, right? You and Hermione were teaming up on Harry and me, right?"

"Yes, but I wasn't there when Hermione and you teamed up on Harry the other night."

"Really, Lisa…I share a bed with another sexy witch, and all you are worried about is whether I was perving on Harry?"

The Ravenclaw witch glared at Susan for a moment, before replying with a fake throat clearing.

"_Cough – Exception Sandwich – Cough"_

Sue rolled her eyes. "That was a joke, Lisa…honest!"

"So was that nickname, I hope," Harry muttered.

"Oh, no…no joking about Mr. Basilisk," Hermione teased, choosing neither to comment nor dwell upon Susan's comment about sleeping with a sexy witch. Then she leaned forward and covered the Ravenclaw's hand with her own.

"Look, Lisa…everything went according to how we planned it the other night. I was there the whole time, and despite all these silly chants about...you-know-what...I'm not inclined to share. And I sure as hell wouldn't have shared on the night that my boyfriend finally got his head out of his own arse."

"And put his other head into yours?" teased Susan.

Harry chuckled. "No, Sue...we still haven't crossed Number Thirteen off of our list."

"Harry!" Hermione chided.

"What?"

"I didn't think you'd be the kind to kiss and tell!" Hermione gently chided.

"Says the girl who brought Sue into my bed for some show and tell?"

"Is that a complaint?"

"Hell, no."

"Good," Hermione replied.

**oo00OO00oo**

It was close enough to curfew to announce the end of cartoons once the compilation that had been playing finished out. As usual, they left in ones and twos, with Harry paying close attention to the Map as each group departed.

He asked Fred and George to wait closer to the end, so that they could chat for a bit.

"So, how did the inspiration go?"

"It was brilliant," Fred replied. "A bit of haggling for a few fake beards, and everybody can get the chance to throw stones at Snape."

"Think he'd stand still?"

"Fair point," said George. "That's the whole problem, given what we'd like to do."

"What would you like to do?" asked Harry.

"Besides start our own harem?" Fred joked.

His brother looked around. Lisa, Susan and Hermione were the only witches left in the room, so he took it upon himself to chant in falsetto.

"What?" he asked. "A sickle is a sickle."

"What were you two thinking about doing to Snape?" Hermione clarified.

"Drive him insane."

"Haven't you been trying to do that for the last several years?"

"Yeah, but...this time we'd do it right," George declared.

"How?"

Fred and George looked around the room, as if to make sure it was safe to conspire. They drew Hermione, Susan and Lisa into the conversation, then leaned forward and said, "You remember that experimental potion you nicked from us before Christmas, Hermione?"

"I remember several experimental potions that I confiscated from you two before hols."

"Right, well...remember the one that was supposed to act a bit like a liquid _Imperious_?"

"A bit like an _Imperious_?" Susan asked. "How can anything be just a bit like an Unforgivable?"

"The idea wasn't all that bad," Fred said defensively. "It only allowed for strong suggestions, and only then if the person really wanted to do what they were told to do."

Hermione nodded. "That one actually had potential, if it was limited to helping people break bad habits...like smoking, or nail biting, or..."

"Or chanting?" asked Susan.

"Absolutely."

"So why'd you nick it?" Lisa asked.

"Because they were experimenting on Firsties," Hermione replied. "Never mind the fact that it wasn't working."

"It was working," George protested. "Just not quite how we intended."

"Instead of doing what somebody else told you to do, the victim..."

"You mean patient, right brother?"

"Right...patient. So, the potion makes you do whatever it is you most like to do."

"Reinforces compulsive or habitual behaviors?" asked Lisa.

"Right in one," Hermione replied. "So instead of helping somebody stop their nail biting, it just makes the nail biting worse."

"And this was going to play into our revenge how, exactly?" asked Harry.

"What do you think Snape's most compulsive behavior might be?" asked Fred.

"You're hoping that he'd wank himself to death?"

"No that's why we kept Ron away from the potion," George snarked. "We're thinking that Snape is a habitual mental eavesdropper."

"Makes sense," said Susan. "So this potion would compel a habitual mental invader to read people's mind?"

"That's right."

"So all we'd need to do is park in front of Umbridge? Wallowing inside her head would certainly drive me over the edge."

"Yeah, but you're normal," said Fred. "Aside from the Boy-Who-Lived, basilisk-slaying, Dark Lord-defeating harem building parts."

"Harem! Harem! Harem!"

Harry glared at George. "You know, if that last bit was all that I was known for...I think that I could live with it."

"Assuming that your girlfriend didn't murder you for the trying," Hermione said sweetly.

"Erm yeah...assuming that SUSAN doesn't hex me," Harry replied, just as sweetly. Then he turned back to the Twins and said, "So the problem would be figuring out who'd be able to drive Snape insane?"

"Oh, no...you've proven that just about any of us could turn him off with the right real or false memory," said Fred. "The problem is the fact that whoever is feeding up Snape's mind candy would be forced to experience it right along side him."

Harry thought back to some of the false memories that he'd laid down as traps for Snape and was forced to agree. He probably couldn't stand to watch loops of Trelawny rubbing off on her crystal ball any more than the greasy-haired git could.

"So, we'd need to find somebody with a stronger stomach than Snape," Harry mused.

"Or maybe...maybe somebody with no stomach at all?" Hermione whispered.

"What?" asked George.

Hermione gazed off in the distance for a moment, then shook her head. "Let me sleep on it."

"Okay," said Fred. "So then, there's one more movie to watch?"

"Yeah, _Meaning of Life,_" said Hermione. "That should be easier for everyone to understand without me constantly stopping to explain."

"Hello, we've come for your liver?" asked Harry.

"Exactly," Hermione replied. She glanced back towards the Marauder's Map, then looked at her watch and nodded.

"Right then, you two are off," she told Fred and George.

George grinned. "So you four will turn off the lights, then?"

"Before or after the snogging?" his brother asked.

"Out!" Hermione ordered.

The Weasley Twins snapped off crisp salutes, and made their exit. Hermione closed the door, then rolled her eyes at Harry. Then they heard some giggling on the other side of the room, which gave her more reason to roll her eyes. Lisa and Susan had drifted back towards the couch, and were acting as if they didn't have to act any more.

"Geesh, get a room, you two!" Harry teased the snogging couple.

Susan looked up from her neck nuzzling and smiled.

"Why, what a good idea!" she declared. She looked around the room and asked, "So Hermione, if this is the basement to your house, does that mean there's an upstairs with some empty bedrooms?"

"No stairs, so no upstairs," Hermione stated.

Lisa chuckled as dropped down onto a comfy chair and pulled Susan onto her lap. "Guess we'll just have to share this room, then? Unless you two wanted to pop off to someplace more private?"

"And just what would you be doing with my girlfriend if we did?" Harry teased.

The Ravenclaw witch wrapped her arms around Susan's waist and said, "Probably the same thing that you'd be doing with yours."

Hermione snorted and leaned closer to Harry's ear.

"Have they got the right bits for that?" she whispered.

Harry let out a deep belly laugh. "Do you really want to know?"

His bushy-haired girlfriend looked at him cross-eyed and slugged his arm. "Maybe I really want to know how you know the answer to that question."

"Enough with the flirty banter and love taps," Susan called out. Then she nodded towards the cabinets above the television and asked, "So where are these bow-chica pow wow movies that I've heard so much about?"

"Yeah," Harry said with a laugh. "We want to watch a brown chicken bow wow movie!"

Hermione glared back a response.

"Erm...you did say that you know where they might be stashed?"

"She should," Susan stated. "How else would she have been able to watch them by herself?"

"Seriously?" asked Harry. "Well, well, well...when did you share this bit of information with my pretend girlfriend?"

"Keep it stuffed in your pants, Potter."

"Yes, dear."

"So?" asked Susan.

"You two really want to watch porn?" Hermione asked the girls. "Like I told Susan...they were all het-orientated. Male heterosexual-oriented, to be specific, and the girl-girl scenes were shot to get that target audience off."

"Hermione?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"This is the Room of Requirement, right?"

"Yes?"

"The same room that was smart enough to provide what what we really needed the other night?"

"So you think..."

"I think that if you really needed the kind of porn that Lisa and Susan might enjoy that the Room might be able to conjure it up."

Hermione chewed on her lower lip as she considered the possibility. Then she shrugged and asked, "Do you have that knife Sirius gave you for Christmas?"

Harry nodded and fished it out of his pocket. Hermione used the knife to open a nominally locked cabinet above the television set. The VHS display boxes stacked up behind the cabinet doors had titles that were definitely new to her.

"_Sort Me Sappho_?" she asked incredulously, as she read off the spines._ "The Coven of Prefects?...Professor Sinistra's Seraglio?"_

"That second title sounds dodgy," Lisa opined. "But the last one has to be a winner!"

"The Arithmancy professor is a witch's witch?" Harry asked.

"If only!" Lisa purred.

"Hey! I'm right here, sitting on your lap, you know," Susan pouted.

"Don't tell me you haven't had thoughts about her solving your equations!"

"What's a seraglio?" asked Harry.

Hermione looked back towards Harry and rolled her eyes. In a rather cartoonish voice she replied, "Harem! Harem! Harem!"

"Careful, the Chasers might be getting to you," Harry teased.

"That will be the day," his girlfriend shot back, pulling the last title off of the shelf. She shook her head when she took a close look at the explicit cover.

"Yeah, this is definitely a Room of Requirement production," she decided. "Unless our Arithmancy professor is moolighting in the Muggle porn industry."

Susan jumped off of Lisa's lap and snatched the video case from Hermione's hand.

"Morgana's Nasty Knickers!" she hissed.

Lisa craned her neck for a glance at the plastic cover and snickered.

"Do you really think that thongs were around back in Morgana's time?"

"So pop it in the machine, already!" Harry chided.

Hermione shook her head as she started the tape playing. She grabbed her boyfriend by the hand and led him back towards the bar.

"What I really require the most right now is my boyfriend's complete and undivided attention," she explained. The she hopped up onto a bar stool, pushed Harry down to his knees in front of her (and with his back to the television screen), and hiked up her skirt.

"You didn't wear any knickers today either?" he asked with wide-eyed wonder.

"Your _full_ attention, Harry," Hermione instructed.

Her boyfriend grinned widely as she lifted her legs onto his shoulders, and pulled him close by digging her heels into his back. He chose not to point out the fact that Hermione's attention could well be divided by her clear view of the both the lesbian movie and the lesbian couple that was coupling on the couch as they watched it. And while he was a little disappointed that he could only hear the movie's soundtrack (as well as the soundtrack linked to what Lisa and Susan were presently doing), he knew that he probably could convince Hermione to join him in their own private screening at a later date. And in the meantime...

Harry leaned forward, and dove into that warm, loving, and exciting place that he could easily consider his own home, sweet home.


	10. Chapter 10

**The Python Defense  
**A bawdy and slightly disturbing H/Hr crack fic by canoncansodoff

**A/N**: Spam, spam, spam, spam...Crack, crack, crack, crack...There is no Python to speak of in this chapter, and it brings us no closer to Snape's revenge. But I thought that Lisa deserves some screen time, and wanted to show how Harry pretending to be Susan's boyfriend is not a healthy or viable long-term option.

This chapter has a fresh lemony scent to it. Those not interested in reading the smuttier parts of this story can probably safely skip over/wait for the next chapter (which will move GetSnape! plot line forward).

**Disclaimer:** Not my characters, no money being made, etc., etc.

**oo00OO00oo**

**Chapter 10: Moving in That Direction **

"Hermione?"

The Muggleborn witch opened her eyes and stared at the _Tempus_-spelled numbers floating in front of her face.

It was 5:15am.

She caught a short breath and held it in as her brain worked furiously…far too furiously, given the hour.

Hermione was in her bed, lying on her side dressed only in boxer shorts. She was sharing her bed with someone…someone who wasn't the owner of those boxer shorts. Someone who was spooning against her…a female someone with bared breasts pressed against Hermione's back. Someone who had pushed down the covers far enough to cast the _Tempus_ spell…presumably with the wand held in the hand that was now loosely resting on her hip.

But why?

She remembered, then released the breath, and looked back over her shoulder.

"Lisa?"

"Sorry…you wanted to be awake and ready?"

"Yeah…thanks."

The Ravenclaw gave Hermione's hip a friendly squeeze. Then she slowly scooted her own hips back, reestablishing the gap that had been set before they'd fallen asleep.

"Sorry for the cuddling…didn't mean to..."

Hermione snorted, then flipped over so that she could face the other witch.

"No worries…Harry and Susan are probably spooning right now too. Doesn't mean that anything is going on, right?"

Lisa rolled her eyes. "Yeah…the _things going on_ stuff won't start until they wake up."

Her bed mate frowned. "That is the plan, right?"

"So why are we going to do this, then?"

"Because you did such a good job ravishing Susan last night that she's got nothing but lesbian on the brain?"

"Oh…yeah, I forgot," admitted the sheepish Ravenclaw. "Sorry about that, by the way."

Hermione smiled. "Nothing to apologize over…with all of this pretending we both needed the chance to spend some quality time with our lovers…right?"

"But still…with you two in the same room…"

"Taking advantage of the opportunity just like you two were…"

Lisa nodded, her mind drifting back to what she had seen…and heard…and done the night previous. Her cheeks began to redden.

"What are you thinking about?" asked Hermione.

"Erm…well…"

"Was my Harry stealing glances at what you two were doing?"

Lisa giggled. "No more than his Hermione was, I think."

The Muggleborn witch blushed.

"Any more than you were looking back towards us?" she weakly countered.

"Probably not," Lisa admitted. "Sorry for that…last night was…"

"An educational experience?"

"And…I have to admit…helpful as well."

"Really?" Hermione asked. "You mean the movies were helpful?"

"No…I mean, yes…I mean…the movies were, erm…stimulating and interesting, but I was talking about you and Harry."

"What?"

An excitable and amazingly alert House Elf popped onto Hermione's bed, preventing Lisa from elaborating.

"The Great Harry Potter's Sir and his Girl-Girlfriend be starting to wake up," Dobby announced.

Hermione immediately sat up and leaned against the head board. She didn't care that in doing so she flashed her breasts to the House Elf; he didn't care, and she'd traveled Air Dobby completely naked before.

"Thank you for warning us," she replied. "So you remember the plan, then?"

Dobby nodded vigorously. "Dobby be going back to minding the Great Harry Potter Sir's bed, and be watching the pretending with his girl-girlfriend. When she be all excited and be hiding her face in the pillows and pushing her bum in the Great Harry Potter Sir's face and be telling him to ride her like a hippogriff, then I be fetching you two and bringing you to the Great Harry Potter Sir's bed."

Hermione smiled, and placed a hand on his shoulder. "That's right, Dobby. And thanks again for your help."

The House Elf smiled broadly. "Dobby be bursty happy to help The Great Harry Potter sir to be playing and loving his girlfriends!" He then popped away before Hermione could remind him of the difference between girlfriend and girl-girlfriend.

And one floor above them, in the Sixth-Year Girls's Dormitory, Katie Bell mumbled "Harem! Harem! Harem!" in her sleep.

Hermione rolled her eyes as she reached for the invisibility cloak that she'd stashed underneath her pillow.

"Almost show time?" she asked.

Lisa nodded as she threw back the duvet, uncovered what she had stashed under her pillow, then rose to her feet.

"Maybe we should practice the choreography?" she asked, as she hooked her thumbs under the waistband of her knickers and pushed them down towards her feet.

There was no immediate response to either her question or to her full-frontal nudity, as her bed partner's full attention was focused upon the strap-on dildo that was now sitting out in the open.

"Hermione?"

The bushy-haired witch startled, and looked up at Lisa with flushed cheeks.

"Sorry….so, yeah. The choreography?"

Lisa smiled when she noticed that Hermione's gaze was drifting back down towards the pillow.

"You can take a closer look at it, if you want?"

Hermione's blush deepened.

"Sorry, it's just…didn't realize that you'd brought it with you..."

"It's part of the plan, right?"

"Well, yes," agreed Hermione.

She made no effort to disguise her continued interest as Lisa picked the sex toy up off of the pillow, stood up on the bed, and stepped into one of the leg straps.

"Can you do that by your…need any help?" Hermione squeaked.

"I can manage, thanks…unless you want to hold it in place?" Lisa teased.

"No…that's okay."

"Right."

There was some more semi-awkward dead air time while Hermione watched Lisa adjust the leather straps that were fastened above each hip. Trying to get off that particular topic, she then asked, "So you were saying that last night was educational for you as well?"

The Ravenclaw nodded. "I've…I've never seen a wizard and witch do those sorts of things before," Lisa admitted. "Watching what you were doing to Harry…watching how he did you…helps me with my pretending."

"Helps you do Susie…with that?" Hermione asked.

Lisa looked down at her fake appendage and shook her head with a smile.

"Budge over," she said, as she sat down next to Hermione.

"So it helped with…?"

"My other pretending," Lisa replied quietly. "Me pretending in my brain that I'm into boys, in case Snape or the Headmaster try to spy."

Hermione worried her lower lip with her teeth as she mulled over that statement.

"Do you mean that…you were putting yourself into my shoes last night?"

"Were you wearing shoes while you and Harry were…"

"You know what I mean."

Lisa smiled. "Yes, I do…and yes, I did," she admitted. "But it's not like I was perving on your boyfriend…really. I was just…this might sound terrible, but…now I can pretend fantasize better by putting other boys' heads onto Harry's body, while I pretend that they are putting their smaller heads into me."

Hermione nodded. "Is it hard?"

Lisa chuckled as she looked down and gave her dildo a stroke. "It's always hard, Hermione."

"I mean…is it hard to pretend that you are heterosexual?"

"A little bit," the Ravenclaw admitted. "But maybe not the way that…"

"What?"

"Never mind."

Hermione reached down and gave the side of Lisa's thigh a playful slap.

"Tell me!"

"Oh…into spanky spank?"

"Don't change the subject.

Lisa snorted. "Ok, fine. The thing is, well…."

She paused long enough to do another tip-to-base stroke. "If you haven't noticed, I tend to be more butch and Susan tends to be more femme."

"No, really?" Hermione teased. She boldly reached over and slapped the tip of the dildo so that it bounced back and forth. "How would I have ever guessed?"

"Hush!" Lisa gently hissed.

"So imagining that you are with a boy isn't as hard as imagining that you are a bottom?" Hermione guessed.

Lisa shrugged. "Right in one."

"So don't."

"Don't what?"

"Don't pretend that you're a bottom," the Muggleborn explained. She nodded towards the toy and asked, "Have you ever imagined using that monster on a boy?"

Lisa gasped. "Have you?"

"Erm, no."

"No…or not yet?" Lisa teased.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing…beyond the fact that now that you've seen a strap-on up close and personal that it might be…inspirational?"

"You mean that I might be thinking what it would be like to use a strap-on on a girl?" Hermione asked.

"Girl…boy…whatever…" Lisa teased.

Hermione sighed.

"Right…so you wanted to go over the choreography?" she asked.

Lisa nodded, and crawled down to the foot of the bed.

"C'mon, then."

"What…do you want me to pretend that I'm Susan?" Hermione asked.

The Ravenclaw paused for a moment…long enough to imagine Hermione on all fours with her fanny waving in the air. She released that thought and replied, "No…grab the cloak, get down here and pretend that you are you."

Hermione nodded and crawled down to Lisa's side. With both of them now on their knees facing the pillows, she said, "So let's assume that they're awake now. They'll cuddle for a bit…or pretend to cuddle…then Susan will get on her hands and knees and say…"

"Wait…"

"What?"

"Aren't they going to have to do more than cuddle to get Harry hard?"

Hermione turned and gave Lisa an incredulous look.

"No."

Lisa sighed. "Okay, fine. So Susan says the code words that alert Dobby, and he comes back here to fetch us."

"You should already have the cloak on by then," Hermione noted. "Might as well put it on now, right?"

"Sure," said Lisa, taking the offered garment and slipping it around her shoulders.

Hermione helped the other witch with the hood and buttoning, and chuckled when the Ravenclaw reached down and slipped the dildo through the front gap.

"What?" Lisa teased. "You've never seen a disembodied dick before?"

"Can't say that I have," Hermione replied. "So…you've got the cloak, and Dobby will use his House Elf magic on me. We'll pop over and…"

Hermione was interrupted midsentence when Dobby popped into her bed and turned words into action. He wiggled his fingers at her, then touched her breast with one hand and Lisa's dildo with the other and transported them both behind Harry's closed bed curtains.

Their naked lovers had assumed the correct position...for the most part. Susan was on all fours with Harry lined up behind her on his knees. Susan's face was buried in a pillow, but there wasn't anything in the script that called on her to moan into that pillow as Harry ran his fingernails up and down her back.

Hermione scowled as Harry reached forward to scratch Susan's neck.

"Mind the gap, Potter!"

Harry looked down, then jumped back immediately, pulling his hands off of Susan's back. He looked down once more to reevaluate the distance between his bits and her bum, then looked over his shoulder towards Hermione and started to reply.

"Don't say anything!" she hissed. "If Dobby did me right, then you're the only one that can see or hear me."

Harry thought for a moment, then nodded.

Hermione rolled her eyes, reached forward, and gave her boyfriend's bum a slap.

"So get out of the way, already, before Lisa pops her thing into some place you wouldn't want it to go."

Harry's eyes darted from Hermione's face down to the dildo that appeared to be floating in the air.

He quickly (but carefully) slipped out of the way.

"Ask Susan if she's ready to be shagged silly, Harry," Hermione instructed.

He complied.

"Oh, Yes Harry! Ram it home!" Susan declared…in a voice clear enough to be heard even with a face full of pillow.

The demand was met not by Harry, but by the disembodied dick. Harry could feel Lisa brush by as they swapped places. And what he could see…well, that was something quite amazing. His hand drifted down towards his crotch, and…

"Need some help there, boyfriend?"

Harry swatted her hand away and shook his head.

Hermione smiled. "I see you grabbed your glasses too? Wanted to make sure you got a clear view of Susan's bits?"

He started to explain, but thought better of it and pretended to lock his lips with his fingers.

"Yeah, yeah…you can explain later."

Harry rolled his eyes and mouthed a silent protest.

"Oh, no worries," Hermione replied. "I suppose you did need proper vision to keep proper distances."

Her boyfriend nodded, touched his nose with his index finger, and pointed towards her. She smiled, and said, "So…I probably should also assume that you were just stalling for time when you went off-script and gave Sue a back rub?"

Harry nodded vigorously, causing his lower head to bounce to the same beat. This caught Hermione's eye.

"Merlin, Harry…you look like you are ready to explode right now."

He blushed, looked towards the other two witches in his bed, then lifted his hands up and shrugged in a "Can you blame me?" gesture.

"No, I guess I can't blame you," said Hermione with a smile. "I'm kind of turned on myself."

Harry tore his eyes away Lisa's efforts and arched an eyebrow at his girlfriend.

"What?" she asked innocently. She smiled, and added, "I kind of like this kind of invisible…with you being the only one that can see or hear me."

Harry nodded.

"Funny that you didn't mention that Dobby could do this trick before," she added. "Or how Daphne benefited from it while you two did a bit of naked chatting in your shower room?"

"But…" Harry loudly protested. Hermione covered his mouth with her hand before he could say anything more.

"Yes…Harry! Spank my butt!" Susan gasped.

Hermione glanced over at the Hufflepuff and nodded.

"Smooth," she noted. "Susan is quite the good actress, isn't she?"

Harry shrugged, then jerked his attention back towards the sound of slapped flesh.

"Yes! Spank me again, Harry!"

Hermione reached over and grabbed her boyfriend's attention.

"Hey, just don't get any ideas, Mister. Lisa can spank her own girlfriend, and I don't get turned on by pain or submissiveness."

Harry looked down at where Hermione had grabbed his attention. He covered her hand with his, then looked into her eyes, smiled, and mouthed, "Yes, Dear!"

She sighed, and said, "So you remember the script, Harry?"

He nodded, and moved Hermione's grasp up and down his shaft.

"Not just yet," said Hermione. "Because you are a thoughtful boyfriend, right? And thoughtful boyfriends don't come until their girlfriend has at least one orgasm."

Harry waggled his eyebrows and looked down towards the boxer shorts that Hermione was wearing.

"Oh, I suppose you think that should apply to me as well right now?"

Harry nodded and smiled.

Hermione giggled and pulled her hand away from his bits.

"I suppose a proper boyfriend should be perving on his real girlfriend, if he is given a chance," she noted.

Harry nodded and smiled emphatically.

"If you insist," she teased. As she slowly reached underneath the waistband of her shorts she added, "Just remember the plan…when you're close…announce it, then give Lisa enough time to get out of the way…and make sure you're pointing towards a safe part of Sue when you burst!"

Harry nodded, and gave Hermione his entire attention while she began to rub herself…even when her attention drifted elsewhere. Because while watching your girlfriend play with herself was amazingly hot…watching your girlfriend play with herself while she watched two other girls play was even hotter.

**oo00OO00oo**

"Harry?"

The Muggle-raised wizard opened his eyes and stared the numbers floating in front of his face.

The _Tempus_ spell read 7:15am.

Harry caught a short breath and held it in as his brain worked furiously…far too furiously, given the hour.

He was in his bed. He was in his bed naked, and sharing his bed with someone…a naked female someone who was spooning against him with bared breasts pressed against his back. A naked female someone who had pushed down the covers far enough to cast a _Tempus_ spell…presumably with the wand that was now gripped in a fist that was balled against his lower abdomen, holding him close. And he could read the spell's output because he'd fallen asleep wearing his glasses.

But why?

He remembered, then released the breath, and looked back over her shoulder.

"Susan?"

The Hufflepuff giggled. "Expecting somebody else to be snuggling with you, boyfriend?"

The-Boy-Who-Lived snorted as reached down and covered the witch's wand hand with his. Noting carefully the relative positions of their wand tips, he gently lifted Susan's hand away from his belly and scooted his hips forward until he could safely turn over and face her.

"So…"

Susan dropped her wand onto the bed linens, reached up, and interrupted Harry by covering his lips with her finger. "Give me a few seconds," she purred, as she closed her eyes and smiled.

"Sure," he replied. He was guessing that she was trying to fix that morning's scripted events firmly into her memories. He was also guessing that Susan was using auditory and tactile stimulation to help that process along. Or at least he was hoping there wasn't another reason why she was laying there in front of him, softly moaning as she slowly dragged her finger in circles around the perimeter of one of her exposed nipples.

Harry sighed. All of this intimate pretending was getting dangerous…and more than a bit frustrating. Not in a blue balls sort of way, mind you…Hermione had been willing and eager to stay on top of that "situation." Several times a day for the past few days, actually. But here he was, sharing a bed for the first time with Susan (and just Susan, assuming that Hermione and/or Lisa weren't lurking about under either the cloak or Dobby's magic). And they were naked, and the covers were down to their waists, and she was mewing oh so sexily as she lifted her hand from her breast so that she could move a thick strand of unbraided strawberry-blonde hair off of her face and tuck it behind her ear.

He knew that Susan liked girls, but that didn't make her any less attractive physically. He closed his own eyes, and tried to focus his thoughts on his real girlfriend, rather than the fake girlfriend who was within arm's reach, fixing into her short-term memory banks a staged sexual encounter that involved him riding her doggy-style.

The shift in thoughts didn't do anything to lessen the sexual tension in the air, though…or to diminish the dangers. Because when Harry's thoughts turned to Hermione, he pictured her as he'd last seen her…in that very bed a few hours previous, rubbing one off as she watched Lisa and Susan play with their toy. And then he imagined Hermione sharing her bed with Lisa…and Lisa's toy…and while he trusted his girlfriend, and while she trusted him, and Lisa and Susan trusted each other, and they all assumed that the Chasers were teasing when they charted about harems…Hermione and he had been boyfriend and girlfriend for just a few days (and nights). Where was all of this heading? How much longer would they have to pretend? Was it going to continue to be "pretend" for all involved…and was the pretending going to involve more than what the four of them did early that morning?

"Harry?"

The-Boy-Who-Worried opened his eyes and caught Susan's gaze.

"Good morning, girlfriend," he said.

"Good morning, boyfriend."

"I'd kiss you except…"

"Yeah, morning breath," Susan giggled. "I should get going, before…"

"Need my cloak?"

Susan nodded, and closed her eyes again. A few seconds later, she opened them, smiled, and said, "Cut."

"Cut there?" asked Harry.

The Hufflepuff nodded. "I just appended a trip back to my dormitory under your cloak to the scene."

Harry snorted. "And what a scene it was, huh?"

"Oh, yeah…"

"We've got your brain in the right place, then?"

Susan giggled, her gaze drifting down towards the point just below his navel where bared skin was covered by duvet.

"How could it not be…you are a _very_ good lover, Harry," she purred.

The black-haired wizard frowned. "I thought we ended the scene?"

"We did," Susan replied. "I was talking about you and Hermione…last night?"

"Oh, yeah….sure," Harry replied. "You too…you and Lisa, I mean."

"Of course you do," Susan teased, reaching out and giving Harry's thin strip of chest hair a playful tug.

"Hey!" he protested, swatting her hand away.

Susan snorted when Harry pulled the covers up towards his chin.

"Now you get modest?"

"Now I get protective," he countered. "It took me a long time to grow those hairs."

Susan giggled.

"I really should get going," she declared. "Can I borrow your cloak?"

"Why don't you just ride Air Dobby?"

"Because when Professor Sprout checks the house wards she'll know that I left the dormitory last night, but didn't return," Susan explained. "If Dobby pops me back into my bed without first passing back through the front door…"

"Yeah, we really should keep Dobby's capabilities under our hats," Harry agreed. "So you going to flash my roommates again?"

"Do you think I need to?"

Harry snorted. "No, between what Neville saw and what the others have probably imagined…"

"Good. Then I'll cover up and ask Dobby to pop me in front of my dormitory entrance...that will shorten my walk of shame."

"You don't have anything to be ashamed about," Harry whispered.

"Why thank you Harry…you say the nicest things," Susan replied, as she smiled and pushed herself up off of the bed. Harry kept his gaze firmly planted on her pillow, mindful of the fact that she was standing naked over him as he handed her his cloak.

"Pretend to escort me out of your bed after I'm gone?" she asked.

Harry nodded.

"Sure thing," he replied. "See you later, then?"

Susan giggled. "What? You haven't seen enough of me this morning?"

Harry risked looking up from the pillow.

"I can't see you at all right now," he noted.

"Well that doesn't seem fair, since I still can see all of you," Susan teased, dragging an invisible big toe half-way up his leg.

Harry tried to trap the toe by clamping his knees together. He missed.

Harry tried to reach up and tickle the giggling invisible witch. He missed, and Dobby popped her away.

Harry thought about trying to bang his forehead against the headboard in frustration. But then he thought about everything that had happened in the previous twelve hours…everything that he had done…and pretended to have done. Everything that he had seen…with his glasses on. Everything that he had heard…and touched…and tasted…and smelled…

The teen-aged wizard grinned, and flopped over onto his back. Umbridge, and Snape, and Dumbledore, and Voldemort, and the ridiculous homework assignment in Divination…there was no room for these things within Harry's thoughts. They'd been shoved into the shadows by shared beds and shared bits…well beyond the edge of what mattered most to him at that moment. And all of the worry that he'd experienced earlier, when he was still in Susan's arms, had vanished as well, allowing him to properly enjoy his unbelievable good fortune like any "normal" hormonally-fueled teen-aged boy.

Harry's lust-tinged trip down short-term memory lane was cut short by the tip of a bludger bat…a bat that somebody had discretely slipped in between his spell-silenced bed curtains. A handwritten note stuck to the end of the bat read, "IT'S 7:30…BREKKERS?"

The-Boy-Who-Lived chuckled as he pulled his wand from beneath his pillow and cancelled the silencing charms on his bed curtains.

"Thanks," he called out. "Give us a minute, then?"

Laughter broke out on the other side as the bat was pulled back.

"Interesting choice of pronouns," declared Neville.

"Could just be conversation, you know," Harry replied. "Like _'Give us a kiss, luv'_?"

"I suppose," his friend offered.

Harry waited a few seconds, then pulled back the curtains dramatically. All four of his dorm mates' faces were staring back at him.

"Good morning, Harry."

"Erm…good morning, Neville."

"Good morning, Susan!"

"Sod off, Seamus."

"Should I get the door for any invisible guests?"

"You can sod off as well, Dean."

"Didn't answer the question, did he?"

"Haven't you guys got anything better to do?" Harry asked, as he climbed out of bed.

The other boys looked at each other and grinned.

"No." they replied in unison.

Harry rolled his eyes as he walked over to the door and opened it for his pretend invisible friend.

"Leaving anyone behind?" asked Seamus, as he patted down Harry's bed linens.

"He's only got the one cloak," Ron noted.

"Oh, yeah…that's too bad."

"It's still probably big enough for more than one witch, though, if they're small," said Ron.

"Nothing small about Susan's baps," offered Dean.

"Think they'd fit if she pressed those baps tight against the other witch?" asked Seamus.

"There's a thought," Ron whispered.

A chorus of "Harem! Harem! Harem!" drifted up the stairwell.

"That's enough!" Harry growled, as he fingered his holly wand.

"Two witches are enough, you mean?" Seamus quipped.

The Irish teen ducked under the flatulence hex that Harry hurled in his direction, grabbed a towel, and dashed towards the lavatory. Dean and Ron were quick to follow, nervously tracking The-Boy-Who-Lived's wand tip.

"You aren't going to hex wandless wizards in the back, are you?" Ron asked.

Harry gritted his teeth and fumed quietly as Neville (who'd already readied himself for the day) held up his hands and backed out the doorway on his way down towards the Common Room. But being left alone in their room opened up other possibilities.

"Dobby?"

"Yes, Harry Potter, Sir?" asked the quick-to-respond House Elf.

"Dean, Ron and Seamus just left for the showers," Harry noted. "They are all a little hot and overexcited…would you be able to cool them down?"

The House Elf smiled and cracked his knuckles.

"Dobby can be cooling down The Great Harry Potter Sir's dorm mates!"

"Thanks, Dobby, you're the…."

But the House Elf popped away before Harry could finish thanking him.

The black-haired wizard sighed, grabbed his own towel, and headed towards the showers.

That towel proved a useful barrier just a few seconds later, when Harry leaped out of the way of three screaming naked teenagers who were being chased by three animated disembodied shower heads that were nipping at their heels with full blasts of ice cold water.


	11. Chapter 11

**The Python Defense**

A bawdy and slightly disturbing H/Hr crack fic by canoncansodoff

**A/N**: Spam, spam, spam, spam...Crack, crack, crack, crack...This chapter is roughly equal amounts quasi-plot development and quasi-smut. It does move the story forward...I think.

**Disclaimer:** Not my characters, no money being made, etc., etc.

**oo00OO00oo**

**Chapter 11: Schemes and Scenes**

**oo00OO00oo**

There weren't any Medieval minstrels or Roman legionnaires waiting for Harry Potter in the Common Room that morning. No coconuts, or chanting Chasers, or Wudoph the Wed Nose Weindeers either…just his real girlfriend.

As if he didn't already have a number of reasons to sport an ear-to-ear grin.

"Why hello, Mr. Happy!" Hermione quipped, as she rose from her comfy chair and pulled him into a hug.

"Why hello to you, too, Mrs. Happy!" Harry replied. He took another look around the room and, once deciding that it was safe to do so, reached down and gave Hermione's bum a good squeeze.

"Stop!" she hissed, slapping his hands away.

"Who is going to see…?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and whispered into his ear.

"Maybe the half-dozen portraits that are hung on these walls?"

"Oh, sorry," Harry replied (even though he didn't look very sorry when he broke the embrace and took a step backwards).

"What's gotten into you, to make you act like this?"

Harry chuckled. "Probably has more to do with what got into my girlfriend last night," he quipped. "Then later last night. And early this morning…."

His girlfriend scowled and playfully punched his shoulder.

"Hey!" Harry complained.

Hermione shook her head. "You aren't the kind of boy who is going to brag about his sex life, are you?"

Harry smiled. "Do you think that anyone would believe me if I did?"

"No, but...just hush!"

"Yes, Dear."

"Don't you 'Yes Dear' me!" Hermione shot back.

"Yes, De….okay…so where is my entourage this morning?"

"Just us, I think."

"Oh?"

"Is that a problem?"

"Certainly not."

"Good."

The couple crawled out of the Portal and into the empty hallway. Hermione waited until they were out of the Fat Lady's hearing range before she restarted the conversation.

"So what do you know about the shower heads that were chasing your naked roommates around the Tower earlier this morning?"

"How do you know about that?"

"Hard to miss all of the yelling and screaming coming down the stairwell….even harder to miss Ron when he ran down into the Common Room starkers, begging somebody to protect him from the cold water."

"He didn't!"

"He most certainly did," Hermione replied. "That was a rather nasty prank."

Harry snorted. "Wasn't my magic," he protested. "Wasn't even my idea."

"But you know something about it?"

"Just enough to predict that my room mates will now think twice before they search my bed for invisible guests."

"Oh, well…let's hope that's the case," said Hermione.

"So who helped Ron?"

"The Twins were in the Common Room…Fred stopped the shower head, while George conjured a towel to wrap around Ron's waist."

"Why did they do that?"

Hermione chuckled. "Fred said that he wanted to check out the magic behind the prank."

"And George?"

"He had more selfish reasons…said that Ron's shrinkage problem was degrading the brand."

"Shrinkage problem?"

"That water was really cold, Harry…and the spray seemed to be focused on Ron's crotch."

Harry grinned. "George didn't want anyone else to think that Ron's bits were representative of all male Weasleys?"

"Something like that."

"So my room mates might have a reason to avoid me," said Harry. "Why were you sitting in the Common Room by yourself?"

"Weren't that many there to begin with," Hermione replied. "Between not wanting to get hit by stray bits of cold water spray, or not wanting to be in the same room as a naked Ron..."

"That means no Chasers shadowing us?"

Hermione looked up and down the hallway. She then whispered, "So Harry, if you marry Susan can I be your second wife?"

Voices in some proximal location chanted, "Harem! Harem! Harem!"

"Knew it!" the Muggleborn smugly stated. "So…where is your girlfriend this morning, Harry?"

"You mean that you don't know?" he teased.

"You know what…"

"She might be getting an earful from her Head of House," Harry replied.

"What for?"

"She erm, sort of…you know…"

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed in faux shock. "Are you getting your girlfriend into trouble?"

The-Boy-Who-Lived gave his companion a funny look.

"What do you mean?" he asked innocently. "My girl told me that she was…protected…before we…you know..."

"Yes, I do," Hermione snorted. She then whispered, "And I was."

"So you know the answer to your own question."

"Never mind," Hermione sighed. She chewed on her lower lip for a few seconds, then thought of a way to use the situation to her advantage.

"So, Harry…how is it going with your new girlfriend?"

The black-haired wizard arched an eyebrow.

"It's been brilliant," he replied tentatively.

"You don't sound so sure of your answer."

"I'm not sure about the purpose of your question."

"Why, Harry!" Hermione chided. "If you can't tell your best friend about your feelings for your girlfriend…"

Harry chuckled, and considered how he might best navigate through this potential mine field.

"It really has been brilliant," he finally replied. "I was really afraid that things might change between us once I got my head out my arse and confessed my feelings to my new girlfriend"

"How could they not change?"

"Hermione!" Harry whined. "I'm just worried that…well, it was a relief when Susan told me that she didn't have any worries about you trying to steal her lover away."

The Muggleborn witch giggled.

"Was she right about that?" Harry teased.

Hermione slugged his arm.

"Ouch!"

"You deserved that," she told Harry.

He shrugged.

"I do wish that my girlfriend and I could have more time alone," he admitted.

"You do?"

"Yeah, I mean…finally getting together with her on the same night of my Remedial Potions lesson…getting together because of what happened during that lesson…it's been a crazy three days since then."

"That's for sure."

"And all of the fallout from what Snape did to me…and all of the extra scrutiny from students and staff…"

"You'd like to have time with your girl, without worrying that somebody is listening in?"

"Yeah."

"I might be able to help you there, Harry," said Hermione, as she took a small risk and reached out to squeeze his hand.

He smiled warmly in response.

The two walked amicably and (relatively) alone for a minute before the conversation started up again.

"So no classes…what's on your planner today?" Harry asked.

His girlfriend began her response with a yawn.

"Think after breakfast I'll crawl back into bed and take a good long nap,"

"So you didn't get much sleep last night then?"

"Oh…just stop."

"Yes, Dea…sounds good to me."

"What does?"

"Crawling into _your _bed for a change."

"You wish!"

"Of course not," Harry replied. "Not that it matters…it isn't as if I could convince a House Elf to bypass the stairway alarms and pop me into your bed, right?"

"Harry….why would you want to nap in my bed?"

Her boyfriend grinned. "I guess that I've grown used to having somebody to snuggle against."

"And what about your girlfriend?"

"Oh, well…I hope that she feels the same way, of course."

"I'm sure that she does."

"Good."

Harry then said, "Well if your bed is out of bounds…guess it's a good thing that there aren't any alarms blocking me from the Hufflepuff girls' dormitory."

"You seem pretty certain that Susan will let you do that?"

"She wouldn't mind…it's Hannah that might protest."

"I'm afraid that Lavender and Parvati would do anything _but_ protest if they discovered you in my room."

"They would do anything?" Harry teased.

"Is there a reason why you are asking?" Hermione asked tersely.

"Constant vigilance?"

"A catch-all excuse if I've ever heard one."

"So okay…after breakfast we'll take naps…in our own beds."

"Sounds like a good idea," Hermione replied, reaching out and squeezing his hand. "And then we'll see if we can find some time for you to spend alone with your girl."

"Excellent."

Hermione smiled. "Just so long as we find some together time with…the other two…to discuss…things."

"Things?" Harry asked nervously.

"Yes…things….things like your next Remedial Potions lesson, and how you might best prepare for it."

"Oh…right. Sounds good."

"Good."

"So…where do you think we'll meet for that together time?" Harry asked.

"Got a preference?"

Harry chuckled. "Well…the last place the four of us got together worked out, right?"

Hermione shook her head. "I'm afraid that we might be over using that Room…too risky."

"Not that place…I was thinking about where we met earlier today."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"And I suppose you'd want to set the agenda for this meeting place?"

"No need…I thought you did a fantastic job with the last meeting's agenda," Harry quipped.

"I bet you did."

"And you didn't approve of the agenda? Seemed like it at the time."

Hermione let out a sigh of exasperation.

Harry pushed on with a smile.

"So Hermione…when we have our next meeting, should the first order of business be reviewing the minutes from the last meeting?"

"Oh, you…you…"

"And then we'd have to go over the old business before we get on to any new business…"

"You'll be meeting all by yourself if you don't stop!" Hermione chided.

"Yes, Dear."

Hermione gave Harry's arm another slug just as they turned the last corner and caught sight of the oversized doors of the Great Hall. There were a few other students milling about, but none of them thought it strange that Hermione was cuffing him…it wasn't the first time that she'd done that to her best friend.

Now the grin that was still on Harry's face? That was noteworthy and out of character…at least when compared to his normal moods during that school year.

That grin didn't survive their entrance into the Great Hall…all it took to chase it away was a glance up towards the Head Table.

"Oh, shit."

"What?" asked Hermione.

"Umbridge," Harry whispered. "She looks like a cat hovering over a mouse hole."

"And that's news?"

"No," Harry replied. "It's probably because of the news."

**oo00OO00oo**

The arrival of the morning's censored mail and the latest _Daily Prophet_ confirmed Harry's fears.

He had long ago developed a way to completely ignore that publication's mealtime deliveries…with eyes focused firmly on the plate in front of him, and his brain singing _"La, La, La, I can't hear you!" _But it was really, really hard for him to ignore the huge front page picture of him entering the Great Hall dressed as the King of the Britains, defeator of the Saxons, and sovereign of all England.

Or to ignore the buzz that the story created amongst both students and staff.

Susan was sitting with Hannah at their House table when the taunting and teasing began. It mostly originated from the Slytherin table, but was supplemented by more than a few catty girls from the other houses…girls that thought that they should be The-Boy-Who-Lived's girlfriend, instead of (quoting the _Prophet_) _"A chubby, Fifth- Year Half-Blood Hufflepuff who has more baps than brains if she thinks that her spread legs will keep the dangerously delusional boy bewitched."_

Not having Harry's voluminous experience with smear jobs and student jeers, Susan ran out of the Great Hall in tears.

Hannah stared at Harry for a moment, then tried to catch up with her friend.

Lisa stared at Harry for more than a few moments from the Ravenclaw table, too afraid of what might follow if she tried to comfort her girlfriend.

Harry turned to Hermione and shared a glance that contained an entire wordless conversation. He rose from the Gryffindor Table and was two strides towards the doors when a voice called out from the Head Table.

"Mr. Potter…If you please?"

He stopped, wondering why his own Head of House had called him out. When he turned and spotted Professor Sprout standing by McGonagall's side, he began to figure out why.

All eyes were on the raven-haired wizard as he slowly approached the Head Table. He didn't care at all for the unfiltered schadenfreude on Umbridge's and Snape's faces, and showed it as he walked to the far end of the table and stopped, fully expecting his Head of House to close the distance.

He was heartened when she did move to meet him. Less so when Professor Sprout did the same.

"Yes, Professors?" he asked.

McGonagall turned towards Sprout for a moment, then fixed her eyes firmly on Harry.

"I think it best if you confine yourself to the Tower today," she stated.

Harry frowned.

"Is this some sort of detention, Professor?"

The Transfiguration Professor pursed her lips.

"If that is what it takes to keep you within bounds and out of trouble…"

Professor Sprout jumped in.

"Miss Bones will be spending the day in her House as well," she informed him.

"Oh…but can't you see how upset she is from this rubbish in the paper?"

"Of course," Pomona replied in a quieter voice. "That is why I don't want things to worsen by having her…or her paramour…caught out of bounds by a member of the Staff."

"Out of bounds?" Harry asked. "Is this some new Decree?"

"No, just some common sense," McGonagall whispered tersely. "How much more trouble will the two of you…and her Aunt…get into if you're caught in her room with your hands in her knickers…or if she's caught in a broom closet with you?"

"Or caught spending another night in your bed, for that matter," whispered Sprout.

"What are you on abo…."

A firm grasp of Harry's elbow kept him from finishing his profession of indignation.

"It's probably a good idea, Harry," Hermione stated, after approaching and overhearing some of the discussion. "I'm sure that so long as Hannah and Susan's other friends can visit and comfort her…and assuming, of course, that Susan is told why her boyfriend wasn't able to be by her side today…"

"Of course," Pomona stated.

Harry took in, then expelled, a deep breath.

"I'll make sure that Harry spends the day in the Tower, Professors," said Hermione.

"You'll have to stick to me night and day if you hope to do that," Harry stated.

"Whatever it takes, Miss Granger," McGonagall stated.

Hermione could keep the hint of a smile from curling the corners of her lips.

"As you wish, Ma'am…come on, Harry. Looks like it's just going to be me and you."

The-Boy-With-A-Pretend-Girlfriend was barely able to act as if that was going to be a hardship.

**oo00OO00oo**

Harry and Hermione did spend most all of that day in the Gryffindor Common Room working on their homework assignments. Ron was with them for just a portion of that time, looking for Hermione to do his work for him. Her outright refusals, and Ron's insensitive remarks about the benefit of having the three of them spending time together "without pesky girlfriends", were his undoing. Hermione and he got into a massive argument, which Harry settled by asking Ron to find someplace else to skiv off his work.

It took the reappearance of a disembodied shower head to convince Ron that Harry was serious.

That shower head (and its mates) reappeared later that evening, and stood sentinel on the four post tops to Harry's bed after he announced that he was turning in early and didn't want to be disturbed. Dobby popped Hermione behind Harry's bed curtains a few minutes later, then provided "Air Mail" service for messages exchanged with Susan and Lisa (who were in their own dormitories by that point). They decided it best that they hold those positions for the evening, which allowed Harry and Hermione to hold each other (and only each other) during that night.

They talked. They kissed. They snuggled. They deepened their relationship an incremental bit.

All was well (at least at that point in time).

**oo00OO00oo**

The unofficial house arrests of Harry and Susan ended the next day. They took their meals in the kitchen, so as to avoid more nasty comments from the other students. Hermione , Hannah, and Lisa were more than willing to serve as unofficial chaperones. They kept the table conversations light and noncontroversial, giving the House Elfs and portraits that reported to the Headmaster little to report.

The conversation was far more serious and pointed that afternoon, when the two couples used Dobby's help and Harry's cloak to secretly meet on the Seventh Floor, in front of the tapestry with tutu-wearing Trolls.

Harry volunteered to do the pacing. When the Room of Requirement's doorway appeared, they quickly opened it…and walked into a replica of his Gryffindor dormitory room.

This earned him more than a little grief from the other three.

He weakly justified the location by stating the need to prove that they could all keep their clothes on while sharing a bed, but that just got everybody's minds back to what they had happened the morning before. The three witches were skeptical…but not skeptical enough to keep from jumping into "Harry's bed" and pulling the bed curtains shut.

The true couples sat on opposite ends…Harry and Hermione had backs against the head board, with Lisa and Susan facing them. To keep in practice, and to respect the call for "Constant Vigilance," they acted as if they were really in Gryffindor Tower. Silencing charms were applied to all six sides of their enclosed space, the bed curtains were spelled shut, and the activated Marauder's map was stuck against the room-side drapes. This allowed the four teen-agers to monitor their perimeter for potential threats. It also left the wall side drapes available for Hermione to transfigure into a Muggle-style white board.

"Right, so…anything we can do about yesterday's _Prophet_?" she asked, after transfiguring one of her feathered quills into a colored marker.

The other three frowned.

"Turn the source of the story into a newt?" asked Harry.

"And that would be…"

"Starts with 'U' and ends with 'bitch'?" Susan offered.

"I wish we could be so certain it was her," said Harry.

"Who else could it be?"

"Dumbledore," Harry replied.

"Why would he do that?" asked Lisa.

The-Boy-Who-Lived shrugged. "Just starting to get a feeling…that article was almost as critical of Susan's Aunt."

"So?"

"So Aunt Amelia is the head of the DMLE, and votes the Bones family seat on the Wizengamot," Susan explained. "She's also not very happy with Fudge at the moment."

"Even more reason to suspect Umbridge," Hermione concluded. "She's the Minister of Magic's stooge, so if she sees a way to discredit one of his rivals…"

"Maybe somebody else sees her as a rival," said Harry. "The way it is right now…I'm furious that the Headmaster isn't going to discipline Snape, and hate the fact that he sends me back to the Dursleys each year…all for my own good, of course. But as mad as I am with him…whom else can I turn to for help?"

Hermione frowned. "So…you think that Dumbledore wants to control your life, and would attack anyone who might threaten his position?"

"Yeah."

"Geez, Harry…tin foil hat, much?"

"What?" asked Susan.

Hermione sighed. "Muggle reference…I'm just rather skeptical of conspiracy theories."

Harry shrugged. "And I'm just saying….we should be careful in our assumptions."

"Wow, that's rather…rather a mature thing to say," Hermione noted.

"I must be rubbing off on him," Susan giggled.

The comment drew some pointed stares from the other two witches.

"Oh, you know what I mean!"

"Right," Hermione replied cautiously. She shook her head and turned towards the white board.

"Maybe we should focus on a more immediate concern," she decided, writing Snape's name on the white board. "So why shouldn't we extract our revenge in a way that sends him to Azkaban?"

The other three looked at Hermione and snorted.

"Right, here's an easier one…what does Snape do?"

"He's the school's potions master," said Susan.

Hermione nodded and wrote that job on the board.

"We could always get another one," Harry countered.

"Solutions later," said his girlfriend. "Let's get all of his jobs down first."

"Head of Slytherin, then."

Lisa nodded. "I think he brews potions for the Infirmary?"

"Oh, I did not want to hear that," Harry replied with disgust.

"What else, then?" asked Hermione.

Harry had _"Headmaster's Butt Boy"_ on the tip of his tongue, and really wanted to spit it out. But then he considered the gay-bashing aspect of the title, and his better angels won some restraint.

"He is supposed to be teaching me Occlumency," he noted. "And Dumbledore claims that he needs Snape around to mentally spy on Umbridge."

Hermione nodded and added these tasks to Snape's whiteboard resume.

Harry rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Death Eater double agent, I suppose."

"Need to at least consider it," his girlfriend noted with sympathy. "Anything else?" she added.

When the other three shook their heads she wrote "New Potions Professor" on the board and added, "So what about his other roles?"

"Finding a replacement Potions professor or a Head of House for Slytherin should be Dumbledore's problem," Harry growled. "I mean…we shouldn't be expected to do everything for him, right?"

"No, Harry," his girlfriend sighed. "But we have to consider the potential consequences of our actions. If Dumbledore couldn't find a timely replacement, then who is the Ministry going to dump on us? Could be just as worse as Umbridge, and…and….we do have our O.W.L.'s to worry about, right?"

Harry rolled his eyes and smiled. "Yes, Dear," he said in a monotone.

"Don't you _'Yes, Dear'_ me, Mister!" Hermione gently scolded. She then added, "What if there are potions that Snape invented, or tricky potions that only he or a few others could brew?"

"Potions that a replacement professor might not be skilled enough to make?" asked Lisa.

Harry frowned, and muttered, "Wolvesbane."

"That might be one," said Hermione.

"There are werewolves in Hogwarts?" asked Susan.

"There was one that we know of," Harry replied. "We can check if Snape is still brewing that potion for him."

Lisa and Susan didn't know about Remus' condition, but didn't ask for details.

"How are you going to learn Occlumency?" Hermione asked Harry.

"You mean that I'm learning it now?"

Hermione arched an eyebrow.

"Okay, so I know a bit more than when I started, and the taunting Frenchman routine worked really well when I had a chance to prepare. But I don't think I'm close to building the passive defenses that would be needed to guard against surprise attacks."

"So you still need lessons," Lisa stated. "Is Snape the only person who can provide them?"

"That's what Dumbledore claims."

"There's only one person in all of the wizarding world that can teach Occlumency?" asked Susan.

"Headmaster wants the lessons kept quiet," Hermione explained. "If word got out, people in the Ministry or the bad guys might ask why they were needed."

"There's a difference?" Harry snarked.

Susan frowned and punched her pretend boyfriend in the arm.

"My Auntie works in the Ministry!"

Harry pursed his lips. "Erm…yes, Dear."

"Hey!" Hermione hissed, punching her boyfriend's other arm.

Lisa shook her head. "If it's supposed to be a secret, then why did Professor Snape tip off Draco about what he saw in Harry's head?"

"Because the rules don't apply to him?" asked Harry.

Hermione shook her head. "He didn't have to tell Draco _how _he got the information."

"You're defending Snape?" asked Harry.

"No, just playing Devil's Advocate."

"Same thing."

"There are logistical issues," Hermione continued. "Trying to sneak an outside instructor into the castle each week for lessons, or sneaking Harry out…"

"So what _if_ it has to be somebody in the Castle giving the lessons?" asked Susan. "Is Snape the only professor who could teach Occlumency?"

"Dumbledore knows how to do it," said Harry. "But won't teach me."

"Why not?"

"He won't say."

Lisa asked, "Anybody else?"

Hermione shrugged. "The Headmaster knows how bad things are between Harry and Snape…if there was another professor with the same skills, then why wouldn't he ask them?"

"Because he hopes that forcing the Greasy Haired Git and Harry to spend time together will turn them into best friends?" Susan snarked.

"Has to be something more than just that."

"Maybe it's not enough to be a Hogwarts Professor," Harry stated. "Maybe you also have to be a member of Dumbledore's little club?"

A brief description of the history and goals of the Order of the Phoenix was then provided to Susan and Lisa.

"Professor McGonagall would be the only other option if this were the case," Hermione noted.

"Why should it matter?" asked Harry.

"Maybe he doesn't fully trust any of the other faculty?" asked Susan.

"It should be more a matter of whom I trust," Harry spat. "Since it's my brain that is being invaded and memories rifled through."

"Yes, Dear," Hermione said, reaching out and giving her boyfriend a sympathetic squeeze on his arm.

"It would be nice if there was somebody on staff that we trusted," noted Susan. "Somebody who could teach _all _of us how to protect our thoughts and memories."

"That would be very useful," Lisa agreed. "Then we wouldn't have to be doing all of this bed jumping and pretending."

"Oh, yes…there is that…that advantage, I mean," Susan said.

"Absolutely," Harry was quick to agree.

An awkward moment of silence followed, as each of the four teen-agers considered not only what they thought about this possibility, but what they _should_ be thinking about it, being the good girlfriends or boyfriends that they were.

"That still leaves the spying on Umbridge and spying for Dumbledore excuses," Harry finally noted. "The first could be solved easily enough by getting her sacked."

"But what about her replacement…he or she could be even worse!" said Hermione.

The other three looked at the Muggleborn witch with incredulous expressions on their faces.

"Okay, so it's a slim possibility," Hermione added. "But what if Snape really is a valuable double agent?"

"What if he's a double agent more loyal to Voldie?" Harry countered. "Dumbledore says that he has complete confidence in Snape, but…I don't trust him, and given his track record on DADA hires he might not have the best sense of judgment."

"If he really is loyal to Dumbledore for whatever reason…" Hermione said.

"_Because he's the Headmaster's Butt Boy?"_ Harry thought.

"Then maybe we should just focus on getting him sacked?" asked Susan. "Let him do contract potion brewing, or something…keep him out of Azkaban and allow him to continue working as a spy?"

Harry frowned. "But what if he really isn't loyal?" he asked.

"So let's say that the goal is to get him sacked, and then we somehow determine whether he's got some usefulness beyond feeding Azkaban's Dementors," Hermione concluded.

"Maybe that's where Auntie can help," Susan offered. "She's certainly got access to _Veritiserum_, and that would force him to say where his true loyalties lie."

Harry snorted. "If only it were that easy…not just that she'd be willing to give us some, but that she could send it to us without the package being intercepted by Umbridge."

"So we just send Snape to her instead," Susan countered.

"Does he have to be sent in one piece?" Harry asked.

The other three looked at the teen-aged wizard and sighed.

"Yes."

"Damn."

Hermione turned to the board. "To recap, then…before we act decisively we need to check on other potential Occlumency instructors, ask Susan's Auntie about _Veritiserum_, and ask Madame Pomfrey and Remus about their supply of potions."

Hearing his former professor's name again jarred Harry's memory. He groaned, and dropped his face into his hands.

"What's wrong?" asked Susan.

Her pretend boyfriend looked up. "Attacking Snape could put my godfather at risk."

"Your godfather?" asked Lisa. "What do you mean?"

Harry's eyes met Hermione's. Each was thinking about the same thing…the extent to which Lisa and Susan should be brought into the fold and told all of the behind-the-scenes facts about his life and their adventures.

He didn't think there was a problem…he trusted the two witches, and they were certainly trusting them to keep their most intimate secrets close.

Hermione felt the same way, but worried a bit that each shared secret would bring the other two witches closer into a "Golden Foursome." She clamped down on those thoughts, for fear that someone would pick up on them and start chattering about a Golden Harem. Hermione then arched her eyebrow and tilted her chin towards Harry…a wordless message indicating that it was up to him to decide.

Harry shrugged, turned towards Lisa and Susan, and dove into a telling of the Sirius Black back story that is so familiar to you, the reader, that it need not be recounted here.

It was easy for the two witches to see the potential risks once they were brought up to speed…if they brought Snape down, Snape would retaliate, and try to get back at Harry by bringing Sirius down with him. The git couldn't bypass the _Fidelius_ and reveal his godfather's hiding place, but could talk about how much help he had been receiving…and who had been providing it. Shacklebolt, Tonks, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley…anyone in the Order could be charged with aiding and abetting a dangerous fugitive based on Snape's testimony. Or anyone who'd stayed at Grimmauld Place, including the Twins, or Ron, or Hermione.

And that was just what Snape could do…although Harry chose not to voice his concerns again. Given how little he trusted the Headmaster, he wouldn't put it past the manipulative old bastard to give up Sirius himself, in a act of petty revenge should Harry take away his pet Death Eater.

The-Boy-Who-Lived expelled a deep breath of air, upon which was carried a whispered expletive.

"Fuck!"

Hermione decided to agree with the sentiment, rather than admonish the language.

"So Snape is safe until Sirius is free," she declared.

Susan furrowed her eyebrows.

"It's not the end of the world, is it?" she asked. "We have to talk with my Auntie anyway, why don't we just ask for her help clearing your godfather's name?"

"Do you think she'd be able to help?" asked Hermione.

"Don't know if we don't ask."

"Do you think she'd be willing to help?" Harry asked.

Susan shrugged. "Well, you are my boyfriend, right?"

Harry frowned.

"And that'd be enough for her?"

The Hufflepuff giggled nervously. "You're right, Harry. She's far more likely to offer help if you were my fiance."

The relative placement of bodies in Harry's bed meant that it was Susan's right shoulder and left foot that were slapped in protest by the other two witches.

"Susan!"

"It's just a joke!"

There was a uneasy moment of silence, as the charmed bed curtains and the Room's walls prevented any chants from reaching their ears.

Harry motioned towards the whiteboard. "So how are we going to contact Susan's Auntie? Or, more importantly, how are we going to take Snape down?"

Hermione frowned. "Probably best that you weren't involved in the technical details right now, Harry."

"Why is that?"

"Because…well, I know how much you don't like having other people make decisions for you …"

"But…..?"

"But you've got another Remedial Potions lesson with Snape coming up tomorrow night. We aren't going to have things ready by then, so…so why risk tipping him off?"

Harry thought about this for a moment, then sighed. "So until my shields are good enough, I can't give him anything juicy to bite down on."

Lisa chuckled nervously. "As if there isn't enough for him to feast on right now."

Hermione's eyes flashed with concern. "Just because he can't tell anyone else about what he sees in Harry's head, Snape could still find a way…what if he dropped into this conversation, for example?"

"Won't work…bed's crowded enough as it is," Harry quipped.

"Is that a complaint?" Susan teased.

"Erm…."

"Maybe that's what we need to focus," Hermione decided.

"What…focus on keeping this bed crowded?" Harry asked.

Hermione arched an eyebrow in her boyfriend's direction.

"Maybe we could do both," Lisa offered.

"Both what?"

"Focus on keeping both Harry's bed and his short-term memory banks crowded."

"Just what are you suggesting?" asked Hermione warily.

Lisa smiled, stretched up her arms, then dropped one arm around Susan's shoulder, using the classic "smooth move" of a boy hoping to grope his date in a movie theater.

"I don't know," she said slyly. "After all of this serious discussion, maybe Susan and you could use a relaxing soak…you know, like we talked about the other night in your bed?"

Susan turned towards her girlfriend.

"You were talking about Hermione and me taking a bath together?" she asked. "In her bed? What else were you two doing there?"

"Nothing more than you and Harry, Susan," Hermione declared. "I still don't know…"

She stared at the other two witches and chewed on her lower lip as she considered Lisa's suggestion. Then she turned towards Harry and squinted a bit.

"What?" he asked.

His girlfriend took in a short breath and held it. Two seconds later, she expelled that breath and nodded.

"Need to do it sooner or later," she said quietly, throwing a nervous look down the length of the bed towards Lisa and Susan.

"Do what?" Harry asked.

"Have you ask the Room to change into its version of the Prefect's Bath."

"So that you and Susan could take a soak together?"

"Amongst other things," Lisa snarked.

Hermione's cheeks blushed bright red. Too embarrassed to explain out loud, she leaned over and began whispering in his ear.

Harry listened for a few moments, then exclaimed, "You want me rub one off while you all three of you are in the bath?"

"Well, yes," Hermione whispered. "Although it's not like our attentions won't be elsewhere…"

"Oh, yeah...that's right. I imagine that it'd be hard to watch me wank while your face is buried in Susan's fanny."

"Buried where?" asked a blushing Hufflepuff.

Lisa let out a deep breath. "Since it was my idea…"

Hermione was quick to nod her agreement.

"Right then," the Ravenclaw continued. "We've spent a fair bit of time tweaking Susan's memories."

"_And tweaking other things as well,"_ Harry thought to himself.

"But the way things are presently," Lisa continued, "Harry is the one most likely to have his memories pilfered."

"Because of my Occlumency lessons," he agreed.

"So what do we do about what you saw in the Owlry?" Lisa asked.

"I thought that was why we've done all this?" Harry asked.

"Yes, but is it enough?" Hermione asked. "If we're going to represent the memories of what you and I have done as your pervy fantasies about your best friend, and also convince Snape that what you saw Lisa and Susan doing was a pervy fantasy, then, well…"

"Then you need at least one more fantasy," Lisa concluded. "If you have Susan for a girlfriend, but are dreaming about shagging Hermione, and also dreaming about girl-girl scenes involving your girlfriend Susan, then it makes sense that you'd construct a wanking fantasy involving Susan and Hermione."

"In a three way?" asked Harry.

"Don't you have enough memories of the three of us sharing a bed?" Hermione teased. "No, we're talking about you wanking as you watch Susan and me do what…what you saw _them_ doing while you rubbed one off in the Owlry."

Harry's eyes went wide. "And that's where you having your face buried in Susan's fanny comes in?"

Hermione shrugged. "It's where me _pretending_ to have my face buried in Susan's fanny, comes into play, Sweetheart."

"But you don't want me to pretend masturbate, do you?"

"Would you really need to do any pretending, Harry?"

The teen-aged wizard sighed, and turned towards Susan.

"So were you in on this idea?"

The Hufflepuff shook her head vigorously.

"First I've heard about it."

"So what do you think about this little scheme?"

Susan chewed on her lower lip, then turned towards her girlfriend.

"Where will you be while all this is happening, Lisa?"

The Ravenclaw witch smiled nervously.

"Well, assuming that Harry lets me borrow his invisibility cloak, I'll be someplace in between Hermione's lips and your fanny."

Susan let out a really deep breath, which drew the others' attention towards her chest, where there was clear physical evidence about what she thought of the idea.

Either that or it was cold in the room.

"So it'd be the same as when I pretended to give Harry a hand job, or when I pretended to suck him off?" the Hufflepuff asked.

The words used in phrasing this question only amplified the thoughts (and physical reactions) of the other three. They all sat there for a few moments, until Hermione finally said, "That was the rough idea."

"So there is going to be some rough play?" Harry teased.

"You wish!" Hermione hissed.

"But am I the only one wishing for that?" Harry quipped.

The snarky question earned him punches in both arms, from two different directions.

"Okay, okay…so no spanking," Harry protested. "So we're really going to do this, then?"

The other three exchanged glances, holding a silent conversation amongst themselves. Once they reached consensus, Hermione turned towards her boyfriend and nodded her head.

"Looks like it."

This answer forced even more blood flow towards his crotch, forcing Harry to attempt a discrete adjustment to his trousers.

The attempt failed.

"Oh, don't bother," Hermione whined, placing her hand over top of his. She pulled the hand back and exposed the tent in her boyfriend's trousers.

"It's not as if we couldn't already tell what _you_ think of the idea."

"Erm…Hermione…that's the point, isn't it?" Susan snarked.

Lisa snorted. "As if your nips aren't just as indicative, girlfriend!"

"Don't blame me…you two were the ones that came up with the idea!"

Hermione sighed, worrying about how things seemed to be spiraling out of control.

Then she thought of a way that she might turn up the heat, but lessen the chances of any of them getting burned.

She asked, "So as long as we're waiting…maybe we should flesh out the choreography, so to speak?"

Lisa chuckled. "What do you mean, Hermione?"

"Well, I'm just saying…if we go over in detail what will happen, and in what order, it might…might lessen the chances of a misstep."

"You mean mislick?" Harry quipped.

"Har-ry!"

"Yes, Dear…so are you thinking about a dress rehearsal?"

"More like an undressed rehearsal," Susan quipped.

"Susan!"

"Yes, Dear."

"Not you as well," Hermione complained. "If it matters, I was thinking that we talk through the steps first…talking, not touching."

"Or licking."

"Pretend licking!"

"Yes, Dear."

"Stop it, Harry!" Hermione replied. "So is everyone other than my horny boyfriend okay with the idea?"

Getting general agreement, the Muggleborn witch scooted away from the headboard.

"Budge over," she asked Susan.

"Why…?" asked Harry.

"Because you need to imagine being by yourself, and I need to imagine myself being rather…close…to Susan as we talk things through."

"Makes sense to me," Lisa replied brightly, as she pulled her girlfriend into her lap.

Harry's eyes nearly popped when Susan reached down and unbuttoned the top of her Muggle jeans.

"I thought it was talking instead of touching or licking?" he asked.

"Just getting comfortable," Susan replied.

Hermione giggled. "Maybe you should be blindfolded, Harry…that way you can imagine it being totally realistic."

"While you all imagine that I'm rubbing one off at the same time?"

Susan smiled. "Hey don't let us stop you, boyfriend."

"Are you serious?"

"Not like we haven't seen it before."

"Speak for yourself, Sue," said Lisa.

"What?" asked Hermione. "What about the other night in the Room of Requirement?"

Lisa snorted. "Didn't ever get a clear view of Harry's bits…for some reason every time I looked up you were hiding them…either in your mouth, or between your legs, or…"

"How about yesterday morning, then?" Hermione asked.

Lisa shrugged. "I was facing away from you two, and focusing more on my girfriend's bum than your boyfriend's bits."

"Okay, I get the idea," said Hermione. "So Lisa…you'd rather not watch Harry masturbate?"

"I didn't say that," the Ravenclaw replied.

"Do I have a say here?" Harry asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes as she transfigured a sock into a longer bit of fabric and covered his eyes. "Why don't you keep it in your pants for now, Harry," she decided.

"Erm…right," he skeptically replied. "So how is this going to start?"

"Well…it starts when the Prefect's Bath appears," said Hermione. "Susan and I will walk in with you."

"Where is Lisa?" asked Harry.

"If I borrow your cloak, then I'm nowhere to be seen," said the Ravenclaw.

"So if the Room of Requirement gets the details right, we will be enveloped in a room full of warm, deliciously fragrant mist. You will ask about swim costumes…Susan suggests that we just wear our underwear. I smile, and say that would be a good idea…if only I was wearing underwear."

Harry groaned at the thought.

"So then what happens?"

"Susan gives me a wicked grin," Hermione continued. "And when I tell her that the tub lets you sit in water up to your neck, she suggests that we all just soak starkers. Then…"

"And then I say that the mist is really thick," Susan interjected. "So if we each stood far enough apart we couldn't see the others undressing."

"Oh, really?" asked Harry. "So that's what we do?"

"Erm…yeah, that works," Hermione replied. "So we separate….maybe ten or fifteen feet. The three of us all agree that we're far apart enough, but we all know better."

"We do?"

"There's mist in between us, but not enough to obscure our views," said Hermione. "Especially when Susan and I start to inch back towards each other…closer…and closer…until I can reach out and touch her."

"So you…you're touching her?" Harry hissed.

"Not that way, you naughty boy," Susan quipped. "At least not yet…first we have to help each other out of our clothes."

"My fingers drag across her chest as I pull off her robes and unhook her bra," Hermione cooed. "She shivers when I slowly slip it off…lean forward…and catch a nipple lightly in between my teeth."

"Her hands drop towards my hips," Susan continued. "Thumbs hook inside the waist band of my knickers…Hermione drops down onto her knees right in front of me. I can feel her hot breath on the front of my knickers…"

"And I can see…and smell…just how excited Susan is," said Hermione, using a husky tone of voice. "That's when I look back over my shoulder and ask Harry if he can see what we are doing."

"And what do I do then?" asked Harry.

"You lie."

"So I really can see you two going at it?"

"Oh, yes," Susan purred. "Just like we can see when you reach down and grind the base of your palm against the front of your trousers...and then you unfasten them…and slowly pull your zipper down…"

"So where is Lisa at this point?" asked Harry.

"She is still nowhere to be seen."

"I could be back in my dormitory," said Lisa. "Or I could be right there next to you, watching what you are watching, and pulling my arms back from the sleeves of your invisibility cloak so that I can reach down under them and do some grinding of my own."

"Ohh….yes….." Susan hissed.

"So then I turn back towards Susan and pull down her knickers," said Hermione. "I am supposed to do it nice and slow, but I'm so impatient…and so excited…and damp…"

"But we don't know that because you're still dressed, silly," Susan quipped. "I pull you back up to your feet and….and I rip off your robes. And you prove right there that you really aren't wearing any underwear."

"And Susan and I begin to kiss…and run our hands over each other's bodies," said Hermione. "She starts to drop onto her own knees in front of me, but I stop her, and instead lead her towards the tub. We both step in, and I guide Susan to the far side of the water. She turns back towards you, Harry, and lifts herself up so that she can rest her bum on the edge of the tub."

"And then I spread my legs," Susan purred. "Spread them wide, and reach down so that I can spread myself wider…"

"Then I squat down in the water," Hermione continued. "Just low enough so that when I scoot forward my head is in between her upper thighs…and I stick my tongue towards its target…"

"Oh, Dear God!" Harry hissed. "And…and where is Lisa, again?"

"Well, Harry…if I was there under your invisibility cloak…I might be on the edge of the tub as well," Lisa replied. "And I might stretch my invisible hand out and cup Susan's fanny…so that when Hermione's tongue makes skin contact, that tongue is licking the back of my hand, instead of licking my girlfriend's clitoris."

"And Lisa's fingers start to rub me," whispered Susan. "And I get even more excited, and I begin to moan…and from what Harry sees it's because Hermione is licking me, and teasing me with little nibbles right…oh, yes…right there!"

Harry frowned.

"This is just a dry run, right?"

"Anything but dry right now," Susan hissed.

"So you are you three acting this out now?"

"Not as far as you know, Harry."

"Urrgh!"

"Just focus your mind on the scene, Harry," Lisa instructed. "You are standing in the Prefect's Bath while your best friend Hermione is eating out your girlfriend Susan…and you can't help yourself and you strip down fully naked and begin to rub while you watch."

"Erm right…I can do that," Harry replied weakly.

"Can you?" Hermione asked. "Do you have a really clear picture in your mind of what is going to happen when we do this for real?"

"Oh, yes."

"You can see me eating Susan out?"

" Yes..."

"And you can hear her moaning…and her urging me to lick harder?"

"Uh-huh."

"And you can smell the scented bath, and you can smell your girlfriend's excitement?"

"Yes-s-s-s-s…."

"And you can feel yourself getting close to an orgasm?"

"For real…or just in my mind?"

"Har-ry…."

"Ok, yes…I'm watching Hermione eat out my girlfriend, and Susan is getting wilder and wilder, and she's reaching up and pinching her own nipples as she squeezes Hermione's head in between her thighs…and then Susan begins to shake all over…and then I can't help myself and I go over the edge…and…and…"

"Don't stop now, Harry!" Susan hissed.

"And then I gather my clothes and slip out of the owlry before I'm caught out."

"You mean that you slip out of the Prefect's Bath?" asked Lisa.

"Erm..right. That."

Harry heard Hermione let out a deep breath.

"Okay, then…does everyone know what to do?"

"Yes."

"Everyone got the scene firmly fixed in their minds."

"Yes!"

"Especially you, Harry?"

"Yes, Hermione!"

The teen-aged wizard felt somebody reach up and unfasten his blindfold. He opened his eyes, then quickly shifted his gaze towards the Map, so as not to be accused of perving on the two hot and bothered witches who were discretely groping each other at the base of the bed.

"The hallway is still clear outside of the Room," he noted.

"Good," said Hermione. "Dobby?"

The House Elf popped onto the bed in between the two couples.

"Yes, Missy Harry Potter Sir's Alpha Missus?"

Hermione glanced towards Susan and Lisa and smiled.

"Will you take these two to the real Prefect's Bath, and make sure that they can use it without being bothered by anyone else?"

Dobby looked at the lesbian couple and smiled.

"Dobby can be making Miss Lisa indivisible, so it be looking like the Great Harry Potter Sir's Girl-girlfriend be in the bath be her lonesomes even when her girl-girlfriend be there too sharing her toys!"

Hermione had just enough time to thank the House Elf before he spirited the other two witches away.

"What is that all about?" Harry groaned. "Lisa didn't take my cloak…and I thought that Susan was going to be with us when we walked to the Bath?"

"That's how it went in your head, right Harry?"

"Yes."

"That's how the scene unfolded…a scene so strongly formed in your mind that you can not only see it, but smell it, and feel it?"

"That's what you wanted me to do, right?"

"Absolutely," Hermione giggled. "And now, since you've built such a strong fantasy scene in your head…there's no need for us to act it out for real, right?"

"Erm…right?"

"Good."

"So we aren't going to share either the real Prefect's Bath or the pretend Prefect's Bath with Susan and Lisa…and you aren't going to pretend to go down on her?"

Hermione couldn't help herself, and giggled at her boyfriend's visible frustration.

"Oh, Harry…we've revved you up, haven't we?"

"Damn right you have...they're probably turning blue right now."

"Even after I helped drain them last night?"

"What can I say?" asked Harry. "I'm a teen-aged boy...and you tell very naughty stories."

"So what would you rather me do?" Hermione asked coyly. "I can either pretend to go down on Susan later, or go down on you now…for real?"

Harry's eyes dilated as he reached for his trouser zipper. That was a very easy choice for him to make.


	12. Chapter 12

**The Python Defense**  
A bawdy and slightly disturbing H/Hr crack fic by canoncansodoff

**A/N**: Spam, spam, spam, spam...Crack, crack, crack, crack.

I posted a google doc version of a draft update in which I gave every reader the right/option to be an editor and make changes. This was part experiment, and partly in response to the increasingly tepid reader reactions to this story. Those making changes were rather conservative...mostly the kind of typo fixes that any good beta would catch. So thanks to all of these volunteer beta's.

I need to reissue a warning...some who read the draft version of this chapter didn't care too much for the last scene. It brings back (and amplifies) some of the brain-bleach worthy raunchiness that Harry used in his Chapter One defenses. So if you were grossed out by Trelawny and her crystal ball...best that you look away once the Fat Lady begins to "sing".

**Disclaimer:** Not my characters, no money being made, etc., etc.

**oo00OO00oo**

**Chapter 12: Staring Down Snape**

**oo00OO00oo**

Harry Potter arrived at the established time and place and was shown into a room that was damp, small and spartan. The flickering light from a single torch cast shadows against bare stone walls and flooring. A gesture was made towards one of the two simple wooden chairs (the room's only furnishings). Harry nodded, and sat down…but not until he turned the chair so that he had a clear view of both the exit and the complex privacy charms that the other person was beginning to weave all around them.

Once the other wizard was satisfied with their security, he turned towards his guest and nodded.

"Good evening, Mr. Potter."

The-Boy-Who-Lived pulled back his hood, revealing a wide smile on his face.

"Good evening, Professor Flitwick … and thank you for agreeing to meet with me on such short notice."

The Charms Professor waved off this thanks as he pulled the other chair in front of Harry's.

"Did you have any problems finding this place?"

Harry chuckled. "Yeah…never been in this part of the castle. I got lost three different times, took twice as long to get here, didn't see a soul for the last ten minutes of the trip…it was perfect."

Flitwick smiled. "I'm glad that you think so…when I spoke with Miss Turpin she indicated your desire for a most private conversation."

"Did she also tell you why I wanted this meeting to be private?"

The Charms Professor shook his head. "There was no need for her to do so, with the points that she was willing to offer up."

"Points, Sir?"

"Yes, Mr. Potter, points," Flitwick replied. "There is a longstanding tradition in my House…an internal reward system that runs parallel with the School's point system."

Harry had wondered why Lisa had been able to arrange this meeting so easily. Since she hadn't mentioned a cost, he wandered off-topic and asked for more details.

Flitwick explained that whenever a Ravenclaw student earned points for the House, they got an equivalent number of "Claw Credits." They could either exchange these credits for some small reward, or accumulate them for something bigger. These rewards weren't all that significant; for example, a few credits might give you a few days' exclusive access to one of the reference books in the Ravenclaw Library. With a few more credits, you could get one-on-one tutoring sessions with one of the Prefects, or a private dinner with the Head of House.

The system as a whole reminded Harry of what some of his primary school teachers did to encourage good behavior within their classrooms.

"So you only agreed to meet with me tonight because Lisa gave up her Credits?" he asked.

"No, Mr. Potter…it was just the fact that she offered up all of her accumulated credits that got me here…on the weekend and outside of my normal office hours. For her to do that…and for somebody outside of the House…most intriguing."

"So how many private tutoring sessions is this costing her, then?"

"None …given her request and the events of the past few days…I am here on my own, and Miss Turpin still has all of her credits. And now that we've explored how it is that I am here…what brings you here tonight?"

Harry stared down at the floor as he incorporated what he'd just learned into his assessment of Flitwick's trustworthiness. Deciding that it didn't alter things that much, he kept to the plan and lifted up his gaze.

"For the last few months I have been working with another professor on an independent study project," he stated. "I haven't made very much progress, and I am trying to understand why that is the case."

Flitwick carefully considered Harry's comment, both on its own and within the context of their meeting. He had some tentative hypotheses that needed to be winnowed down with the help of a few questions.

"What do you think are the reasons for this lack of progress?" he asked.

Hermione had helped Harry prepare for this question, and it showed.

"I'm afraid that I lack the information necessary to make that type of assessment, Professor. Since it is an independent project, I can't compare my progress or my concerns against the experiences of other students. In addition, my friends and I have searched unsuccessfully for any pertinent reference materials that might offer a basis for comparison."

"Nothing in the Hogwarts Library?"

"Not even in the Restricted Section."

This comment earned Harry an arched eyebrow. He replied with a smirk and shrug.

"We have also checked the Ravenclaw Library, the Flourish and Blotts mail-order catalog, and the large private library of one of the Noble and Ancient Pureblood families."

"What about the Ministry's Library?"

Harry snorted. "Professor, I'm not on the best of terms right now with the Ministry of Magic. And while I haven't been ordered to keep my project secret from the Ministry…or any Ministry officials…I was strongly encouraged to do so."

Flitwick nodded.

"If you are worried about your progress, wouldn't the professor who is supervising this work be the best and most immediate resource?"

"I have tried, Sir. He blames me and me alone for my lack of progress. But even if what he says is true, I don't trust him."

"Oh. Is it because of this project that you have lost trust in this professor?"

"Well, I didn't trust him before we began. But what he did last week was….well, it was inexcusable."

"Hmm…if you don't trust this instructor…I wouldn't normally be in your chain of command. Shouldn't you be raising this issue with your Head of House?"

Harry sighed. "Ideally, yes. But…I tried earlier this year to complain about a different teacher, and all I got back were instructions to keep my mouth shut and my head down."

"The Headmaster, then?"

Harry shook his head. "The Headmaster is the one that arranged for my instruction…he insisted on it, actually. He chose the instructor, and has said more than once that he has complete trust and faith in the man. So I know he wouldn't help me."

"I see."

They sat quietly for a few moments while the Charms professor considered what Harry had said.

"I don't suppose that your Head of House or the Headmaster know about this meeting? Does this other professor know that you are here?"

"No, Sir."

"Then are you asking me to do something for you behind their backs?"

"No, Sir…I mean…not necessarily. I don't even know if you could help me."

"Mr. Potter, without more information about either the project or the reasons behind it, I can't really say…well, let me back up for a moment. What do you wish to get out of this meeting?"

Harry nodded.

"If I ask if you know about the subject matter, would you be willing to keep secret the fact that I've approached you and asked you that question?"

"So long as the topic doesn't involve anything illegal or…you said that the Headmaster wants you to do this work, right?"

"Yes."

"Then it shouldn't be a problem. If that is true, then I will keep the existence of your question a secret, as well as the question's content and the content of any response that I may provide."

"That's great, Professor," Harry replied. "So should I ask it now? Because depending on the answer, we might be done here."

"Go ahead, then."

Harry took a deep breath and asked, "How much do you know about the practices of Legilimency and Occlumency?"

Flitwick caught his breath…and didn't release it for a good fifteen seconds. He then curtly stated, "I can't help you, Mr. Potter."

"What?" Harry asked. "Does that mean that you don't know about these things? Or that you do know, but you can't help me with them?"

"Why would the Headmaster think it necessary for you to be able to invade other people's minds?" Filius asked sharply. "To steal their thoughts and memories?"

"I'm not trying to learn how to steal other people's thoughts," Harry said defensively. "What I'm trying to do is learn how I can keep Voldemort…or Snape…or Dumbledore…from stealing mine!"

It was Flitwick's turn to express amazement.

"What?"

Harry chewed on his lip. He'd just revealed far more than he had wanted to without additional assurances that what they were discussing would be kept confidential.

But in for a penny….

"The Headmaster believes that I have to learn Occlumency in order to protect my mind from Voldemort. He asked Professor Snape to teach me. I've had private lessons with him twice a week for the past three months."

Flitwick mulled over this disclosure.

"Linking this to your earlier comments," he then stated, "you don't think that you are learning Occlumency as well as or as quickly as you should. But you haven't any other knowledge on how the art should be taught, so you can't tell if your struggles are due to poor instruction?"

"Are we still talking underneath your promise not to tell anyone about these things?"

"Yes."

"And will my answer be included as well?"

Flitwick sighed, then nodded his head. "Assuming that your intentions aren't unethical or dangerous to others."

"That might be a problem, then," Harry hissed. "Because after what Snape did….my intentions might just be a little dangerous, even if they are deserved."

"I see. Well, I am going to pretend that I didn't hear what you just said for the moment. Let's start with the facts. Why don't you tell me how you are being taught, or how you think Professor Snape might have wronged you?"

"We'd be here all night if you want a complete answer."

"Then limit yourself to the Occlumency lessons."

Harry asked for, and received, additional assurances that his answers would be confidential. He then launched into a detailed description of Snape's teaching methods. And since he had done little more than bellow at Harry to clear his mind, this didn't take very long at all.

Flitwick was appalled, but thought it best not to say as much. He found it much harder not to curse out loud when Harry moved into a description of his last session with Snape (a description that was detailed enough to set the scene, but ambiguous enough so as not to reveal the identities of the actresses and their naughty acts, both real and imagined).

"I am so sorry, Mr. Potter," he then said. "It is a terrible thing, to be forced to allow somebody you don't trust access to your mind. A path fraught with peril, and the potential for ruin. Even when you receive proper instruction…which is clearly not the case. You have been treated terribly and unfairly by Professor Snape…criminally, if what you've described is true."

"So you are speaking from experience, Professor? Is there a way that you could help me?"

"I wish that I could, Harry," the Charms Professor replied. His eyes shifted away from the teen-aged wizard and he stared at one of the bare stone walls. The light cast from the one single torch was dim enough to keep Harry from seeing Flitwick's eyes water up.

"Her name was Margaret," the Professor whispered. "She was the only woman that I have ever loved. We were engaged to be married, until the day that…"

The diminutive wizard removed his glasses from the bridge of his nose and began to wipe them with the hem of his robes. This allowed him to continue the telling of his tale without making eye contact with Harry.

"I was working on my Mastery at the time. I had a colleague…Abigail was her name…we were friends, but I never saw her vicious side...or the fact that she fancied me. Four weeks before the wedding, Abigail tried to wreck it by starting a nasty rumor that my fiancee was having an affair with a married man. It was a lie of course, but this witch was so wicked and had planted so many little clues…seemingly damning evidence…"

The telling of the story stalled out while emotions surged within the Charms Professor. Harry was paralyzed…had no idea what to say…had no idea why the story was being shared with him…so he just sat and waited.

Flitwick finally pulled himself together.

"I went to my fiancee and I asked her about the rumors. She denied that they were true, but what I saw in her eyes…it is a useful thing to how to spot micro-expressions when you are on the dueling circuit. Little, almost imperceptible signals…a slight curl of the lips…the dilation of your opponent's pupils…"

Harry waited a few moments before he dared keep the story going.

"What did you see in your fiancee's eyes, Professor?"

"Worry," said Flitwick. "Then I couldn't help myself…I just had to know why she was worried about these rumors. So I drew my wand and cast a _Legilimens_ spell. And that is all that it took for me to lose her."

"Because you saw that she hadn't been telling the truth?"

"No, because she saw that she could never trust me after I had cast that spell," Flitwick whispered. "She hadn't been having an affair…had hardly ever spoken to this other wizard since they'd graduated from Hogwarts."

"So why was she worried, then?"

"Because….when I entered her mind, she was revisiting one of her school girl fantasies involving this wizard and a broom closet. But it looked so real…I started to tear through associated memories and thoughts and….well, the details don't matter."

Flitwick was lying, of course. Not about the affair, or the fantasy, but about those other details mattering. He wasn't about to tell Harry his fiancee had been a Prefect, and had once caught this man naked in a broom closet with another witch. Or that this encounter (and the other wizard's centaur-sized bits) had formed the basis of his fiancee's favorite adolescent wank fantasy…and that woven within his fiancee's mental replay were nagging concerns about the ability of a child-sized wizard like Filius to satisfy her sexually with his proportionately-sized penis.

"So the damage was done," the Professor finally stated. "We broke off the engagement, she moved to Australia, and I…in the days that followed, and in the depths of my depression, I made a vow upon my life and magic never to cast the _Legilimens_ spell again."

"I'm sorry that I asked you about it, Sir," Harry said sincerely.

"No, that is quite alright…you could not have known," Flitwick replied. "And it does give me a way to explain why I can not help you learn these mental arts, even if I wanted to."

"Because there really is no other way to test Occlumency shields other than to attack them?"

The Charms Professor nodded.

Harry thought for a few moments, and then asked, "So…even if you can't test my shields, do you have any helpful hints on how I can build better shields for when Snape attacks them?"

The question brought a small smile to the corner of Professor Flitwick's lips.

"When is your next session?"

"Tomorrow evening, right after dinner."

Filius cast a quick _Tempus_ spell, then snorted. He conjured two mugs of hot coffee, gave one to Harry, and told him that he was going to need the caffeine before they were through for the night.

**oo00OO00oo**

Dobby's help meant that Harry didn't have to use the after-hours pass that Professor Flitwick had written out for him. But rather than pop straight into bed, Harry flew Air Dobby only as far as the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. Permission was then asked (and once an explanation was made), permission was granted. He thanked the tower's Guardian, and provided the proper password.

Given the late hour, it was no surprise that the Common Room was empty. Given the nature of his co-conspirators, it was also no surprise that his bed wasn't empty once Harry finally crawled into it…just a question of how full that bed would be.

But there was only one witch waiting for his return; Hermione was awake, and displayed just enough patience to wait for the bed curtains to close before she whipped off the Invisibility Cloak and cast her privacy charms.

"So I'm guessing that the meeting went well?" she asked.

"Hello to you too, Sweetheart," Harry replied, pulling the nightgown-wearing witch into an embrace.

Hermione tried to resist his kisses, and to insist on business before pleasure.

But resistance was futile, because her heart really wasn't into it. And neither were her other bits…especially once Harry lifted up her gown and began to lavish attention on them.

**oo00OO00oo**

Hermione's curiosity held a much stronger bargaining position when she woke up in her boyfriend's bed early the next morning. Not as strong a position as her full bladder, however, so she called for the House Elf who never seemed to sleep, and asked him to pop her back into her dormitory to use the loo. Once she showered, brushed her teeth, and dressed for the day, she slipped back behind Harry's bed curtains and woke him up.

Hermione's curiosity was considerate enough to allow her boyfriend to wash up while she skimmed through a Muggle meditation instruction manual that Flitwick had lent Harry. Once toweled off and dressed, he climbed back into bed and gave his girlfriend a full accounting of his meeting with their Charms Professor.

Flitwick had been very impressed with all that Harry had accomplished (in spite of his instructor), and was quick to pinpoint a few key issues affecting his progress. While Snape was right when he told Harry that he needed to clear his mind as part of his defense, he never told Harry how this clearing might be done. So Flitwick spent a fair bit of time working with the teen-aged wizard on basic meditative techniques. He then reviewed the focused nature of the _Legilimens_ spell. Since it was a wand-cast spell originating from a single point, a defender didn't have to necessarily defend his flanks or his rear. You didn't need to build a castle with four equally-strong walls…a more effective defense could be constructed by funneling the point of attack towards a single point of defense, lined up with the direction of the spell.

This was a new concept for Harry, although it shouldn't have been…Snape had watched more than a few of his mentally-constructed four-walled castles collapse from their own weight, but had never said a word of it.

The two had spent the last hour of their meeting reviewing potential Occlumency barriers that might be better suited for Snape's attacks. Flitwick stressed the importance of what Harry had already been doing…bolstering mental defenses by basing them in whole or in part on real things. For example, if a door was going to be used to guard one's memories, then it would help if this imagined door was identical to a strong door that he had seen in real life. The Occlumency barrier would also be stronger if it was modeled on something that the attacker was unfamiliar with (or at least not as familiar with as the defender).

And this is how Harry came to replace "The Python Defense" with "The Fat Lady Defense."

It was also the reason why he hadn't popped straight into bed the night before.

Hermione was skeptical.

"So your barriers are going to be strongest if they are modeled after real life barriers?"

"Yes."

"And if you are creating a door for a barrier, you want the strongest, most secure door possible…a door that your mental attacker would have problems getting through in real life?"

"Exactly."

"But Harry…according to _Hogwarts, A History_, any Professor has the ability to bypass the protections built into the entrances of any of the four dormitories."

"Yes, but that's only in emergencies."

"Or when a professor is engaged in the normal course of his or her duties," Hermione countered. "So if Snape is trying to get though your mental version of the Gryffindor entrance to test your shields…"

"But that's the thing," Harry said with a smile. "These Occlumency lessons aren't part of the normal course of the Potions Professor's duties. And I'm not paying for these lessons, or getting graded on them, so he can't claim that he's tutoring, or supervising my independent studies."

"Are you sure?"

"Well…I wasn't, completely," Harry confessed. "That's partly why I talked with The Fat Lady last night, and asked for her opinion."

"She can speak with authority?"

"She said that she could," Harry replied. "And that's good enough for me…if the real Fat Lady says that she could keep Snape from barging into the Tower without just cause, then that's enough to give that same power to the imaginary Fat Lady that is guarding over my Occlumency barrier."

Hermione frowned. "But what about Third Year, Harry…wouldn't you knowing that Sirius was able to get through with a hard slash of his claws weaken your door?"

Harry nodded. "Except that I know that the Headmaster bolstered the strength of the portal after Sirius's attack. And even then, my Fat Lady isn't going to be an exact replica of the real one."

"She isn't?"

"No, I've got a few surprises for anyone who thinks that they can treat my barrier like the real life entrance."

"Like what?"

Harry grinned.

"That's a secret."

"Oh, Harry…you can tell me."

"Nope…it's going to be a big surprise."

"But I'm not going to tell…and we don't have Potions today, so the odds of Snape trying to steal my thoughts…"

"Okay, here's a deal. You show me yours, I'll show you mine."

"Harry… we're already showered and dressed, and…aren't you tired out from last night?"

"Just what are you thinking?" Harry teased. "You have a naughty mind, Hermione…I was talking about sharing ideas on mental defenses."

"Right."

"No, really."

"So what do you want to know, Harry?"

"You and the others are planning something for Snape, right?"

"You know we are."

"Some sort of pilot test, to see if your full-scale revenge plans are workable?"

"That's right."

"You tell me what those are, and I'll tell you my plans for Snape and the Fat Lady."

"But Harry…"

"You got to admit, Hermione…I've got every reason to be curious. Between you talking with Daphne Greengrass, and Susan whispering into the Fat Friar's ear…"

"Plausible deniability?"

"I could say the same."

"But…did you discuss modifications of yours with Professor Flitwick?"

"No…thought of it myself last night."

"When?"

"After the meeting."

Hermione frowned. "Exactly when were you thinking about Snape and the Fat Lady, Mister? And the answer better not be when your mind should have been focusing on me."

"Nah, this was before that. Although…now that you mention it…maybe I could…when I was…"

An evil glare formed on Hermione's face.

"I don't like the sound of that one bit, Harry. It sounds as if you are going to use our…together time…as part of your defenses."

"No, not at all."

"But that's the sort of thing you used before, right? Trelawny humping her crystal ball? Ginny flashing her skinny arse at you at Grimmauld Place?"

"Oh, geez…those were all gross fake memories…or based on gross real memories that I'd rather forget. How could you compare that with what we did last night?"

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't have the means to make that comparison, Harry. But unless you start talking and give me that ability, then…you won't have much more than memories when it comes to us."

Harry's face paled.

"Erm, right. I was just thinking out loud. It's a bad idea…forget I said anything."

"No, I won't. And you will explain, or I really…won't."

A long sigh escaped from Harry's lips. He gathered his thoughts, then took the time needed to arrange and edit those thoughts in a way he thought least damaging.

Hermione thought that time might have been better spent working on a different plan, once he summoned up the nerve to share those thoughts with her.

"Oh, Harry...you're such a _boy_!"

"Erm...yes. Yes I am."

""You're such a _teen-aged _boy with a bad case of sex on the brain!"

"Guilty as charged, Milord," Harry smirked. "Although I've had some willing accomplices on that second charge."

"What happened to the Python? This idea is so...so gross-out comedyish. Where's the sophistication?"

"Python is sophisticated?" Harry teased. "What's so high brow about fish-slapping? Where is the satiric cultural commentary within those wafer thin mints?"

"You know what I mean," Hermione countered. "Your idea is more _Porky's_ than Python. More Jim Carrey than John Cleese."

"Hey! I thought that Jim Carrey was pretty funny in "_Dumb and Dumber_!"

"Well you would, being a teen-aged boy!"

"Thought we covered that point already?"

"Ga!" Hermione exclaimed, pulling on her bushy brown hair in frustration. "Do you really think that what you've got planned for Snape is funny?"

"Doesn't matter whether my Occlumency barriers are funny," Harry countered. "What matters is that they are effective."

Hermione sighed. "And that justifies the objectification? It's worth belittling the Fat Lady?"

"You're worried about hurting a portrait's feelings?" Harry asked. "No complaints when I did worse by using Umbridge or Trelawny in fake sex scene traps?"

"Umbitch deserved it, and Trelawny...well, she was rubbish at teaching. But what did the Fat Lady ever do to you, Harry? Why is she fair game...because she is fat?"

Harry sighed. "Oh, Hermione...do you think that I'd be that mean? Why do you think that I took the time to talk with her last night?"

"To see if this obnoxious idea would work?"

"I asked her permission," Harry replied. He shook his head and added, "Took the risk that she'd go straight to the Headmaster and asked if she would be upset with the idea."

"And she was agreeable?"

A slight shudder ran across his shoulders as he recalled the conversation.

"Almost too agreeable," Harry replied, shaking his head. "Loved it so much that she wanted me to coach her through a full screen test."

"She didn't!"

"Only because I didn't allow her to."

"But...wouldn't seeing it for real make the barrier that much stronger?"

"I'll have to make do," Harry replied. "Bad enough that she started to shamelessly flirt after I described what I was planning. Can you imagine me standing in front of the Tower entrance as she...don't think that I could face her after that."

"Sounds as if she wouldn't have been able to see your face," Hermione teased.

"You know what I mean!"

Hermione sighed.

"Setting the raunchiness aside for a moment...do you think that this idea will even work?" she asked. "Snape is a Potions Master, after all. With what he routinely slices and dices into potions ingredients...he has to have a strong stomach."

Harry grinned. "He's never had to interact with those ingredients this way, though...unless he's even more deviant that I thought. And I saw his reaction to some of the diversionary traps he triggered last time...it will work, so long as I can stay focused and keep him within the scene."

His girlfriend still appeared skeptical.

"Look...I really need to get this right," he pleaded. "There's so much more to keep from Snape since the last time...watching you wrap your lips around my...and your legs...and watching you watch Lisa and Susan..."

Hermione pursed her lips as she thought about things. When she came to a decision, she formed a smile with those lips, then leaned forward and used them to plant a surprisingly intense kiss on her boyfriend's face.

"Okay, you've convinced me."

"What?"

"Your arguments were persuasive. I now think that it's a good idea."

"Really? You mean that I've actually won an argument with you?" Harry asked, forming an over-the-top look of amazement on his face. "Unbelievable! First time for everything! What's next...me beating Ron at chess?"

"Don't get cocky, Mister."

"Erm...right. Sorry."

Hermione stretched out the legs that she had been sitting on. Harry watched with great interest as she reached underneath her skirt and robes, then pulled off her knickers. He waggled his eyebrows and asked, "So now that we're done having an argument, it's time for some brilliant make-up sex?"

"No, silly!" she replied. "It's time for me to help you strengthen your new barriers!"

"By giving me even more memories to protect?" Harry asked.

Hermione smiled and shook her head as she hiked up her hemlines and gave a full upskirt view to her boyfriend.

"No, Harry," she giggled. "By giving the Fat Lady a partial body double."

It took him some time to figure out what she meant. Fortunately, Hermione gave Harry plenty of time to think as he enjoyed a barrier-boosting perspective.

He didn't think it was necessary, but was he about to complain?

**oo00OO00oo**

Harry didn't get much out of his classes that day; his mind was too busy working on his new defenses to focus on what was happening outside of his head. As the hours counted down to his Remedial Potions lesson, he grew more and more confident. It wasn't the first time that he'd ever looked forward to a session with Snape…he had been just as eager the last time. But that was when Harry's main goal was to attack Snape with a taunting Frenchman and (if he was really lucky) a catapult-hurled cow.

This time he really thought he had a chance to stop Snape cold…and to stop him more than once.

The Potions Professor tried to shake Harry's confidence during dinner by shooting him menacing glares from the Head Table….glares that were laced with hints of sadistic glee. Harry shook off these intimidation attempts with a wide smile and squared shoulders…his self-confidence bolstered by encouraging nods from Professor Flitwick, under-the-table hand squeezes from his girlfriends (both real and pretend), and the Weasley Twins' snarky gallows humor.

But then the latest issue of _Teen Witch Weekly_ arrived in the evening's owl post, and instantly wrecked Harry's focus far more effectively than Snape could.

Lavender Brown was more than willing to share her copy with Harry, so long as it meant giving her the chance to budge in between Hermione and him to help flip through the cover story.

The magazine had the same picture on its cover that was used by _The Daily Prophet_…Harry and Susan walking hand in hand into the Great Hall dressed as King Arthur and his Guinevere, with Hermione and the other witches dressed as ladies-in-waiting right behind. But rather than match this wizarding photos with text that screeched about teen-aged delusions and mental instabilities, _Teen Witch Weekly_ decided to go with a different slant.

It was a story approach that was perfectly summed up by the cover page headline:

_**Harem!  
Harem!  
Harem!**_

While the magazine could have added a charmed soundtrack to the magical photo and this headline, there was no need. The chant was taken up loud and clear within The Great Hall by those heart-broken witches who had taken comfort from the story. And by others who just wanted to cause a little mischief at Harry's expense.

Susan reluctantly confirmed the general validity of the facts as they were presented within the article.

She had been orphaned by the last war, and had no siblings. There were no male Bones left on the family tree, and she was the only surviving witch in her generation. A Death Eater curse had left her Auntie barren, and destined for spinsterhood. In short, the Ancient House of Bones was nearly extinct.

Within the wizarding world, allowances were made to keep endangered family names alive. Susan's father had been Head of House, and she had been born into the House's senior line. If the laws and traditions of the family allowed for it, Susan could enter into a multiple marriage and become a secondary wife for the Head of a different Ancient House. While she would take the name of her new husband, her children would be given her maiden name, and (so long as her husband had sired a male heir with his first wife) her firstborn magical male would become the new Head of House Bones.

And as the investigative reporters of _Teen Witch Weekly_ had discovered (and breathlessly described), the laws and traditions of The Ancient House of Bones not only allowed for this line-saving contingency…they practically mandated it.

Hermione was (predictably) appalled.

"So your family laws are forcing you into an arranged marriage?" she asked. "You don't have any say?"

Susan sighed.

"That's not quite right," she replied. "An arranged marriage would pair me up with one specific wizard."

"Or with a wizard from a specific house," Lavender added. "In Susan's case, she's got a pool of potential husbands and potential houses to pick from."

"Just has to be the current Head of a house that either has 'Ancient' or 'Ancient and Noble' status," Susan added.

"Like Harry, for example," Lavender was quick to note.

The-Boy-Who-Lived gasped.

"So…so that's what all of the harem talk is about?" he asked.

Susan nodded. "I'm not allowed to be the first wife of a Head of House…so the only way that you and I could marry would be if you married somebody else first."

Harry rolled his eyes. "You aren't seen as competition in these chanting witches' eyes?"

"I'm afraid not."

"Wow…I just got up the nerve to ask you to be my girlfriend a few days ago. And now I'm supposed to be planning on not one wedding…but two?"

Susan bit her lower lip and looked down at the table.

Harry realized his mistake and reached out to squeeze her hand.

"I couldn't be happier about being your boyfriend, Sue," he said. "It's just that…things are so new…and we're still students…and I've got this Dark Lord and his evil minions after me…"

"It's okay, Harry," she replied. "I should have told you about this before…you shouldn't have had to find out this way. But like you said, it's only been a few days…didn't want to scare you off with talk about marriages."

"It is a lot to take in all at once," Hermione stated. "And to think about all at once…even when there are other, more immediate concerns?"

Harry turned to his real girlfriend and nodded.

"I think that's my cue to run out of the Hall in a huff," he said. He leaned forward and kissed Susan on the temple. "We'll get together and talk this through later tonight, right?"

"Sounds good, Sweetheart," the pig-tailed witch replied. "Good luck with your last-minute revisions."

"Thanks…I'm probably going to need it."

Hermione pushed back her chair and stood.

"Want some help, Harry?" she asked.

"Smooth," Lavender quipped. "You trying to better your odds of being Harry's primary wife, Hermione?"

"Can't be much better than the odds she's getting at the moment," Fred chimed in.

Harry looked down the table, where a small group of students were already hovering over the twin bookies with money in hand. He shook his head, and added the scene to the list of things not to dwell on until after the Remedial Potions lesson.

**oo00OO00oo**

The Weasley Twins volunteered to prance and sing in front of Harry as he walked towards Snape's office. He instead asked that they cover the rear, and use whatever pranks they deemed necessary to keep the gaggle of giggling witches from following him with their copies of _Teen Witch Weekly_ in hand. Between their efforts and the judicious use of secret passageways, he was able to get down into the dungeons with only Susan and Hermione along for the ride (he tried half-heartedly to change their minds, but knew it wouldn't work).

Harry's efforts to regain his mental focus in time for the lesson were almost derailed when the three teens turned a corner and he spied who was waiting for them outside of Snape's office door.

It was the Bloody Baron.

"Yes!" Hermione hissed. "Looks like Daphne and the Fat Friar came through for us!"

"Hermione?" Harry asked warily. "Why is the Slytherin House Ghost waiting for us?"

"No worries, Sweetheart…you'll find out soon enough."

"Erm…if you say so."

The fearsome-looking phantasm silently stared at the three teenagers as they slowly approached the office door. Hermione and Susan stopped ten feet short and gave Harry synchronized kisses on each cheek.

"We'll be here waiting for you," Hermione said.

"Along with…?"

"No worries, Harry."

"I won't…so long as you two promise to pop away if trouble shows up."

"We'll be fine, Sweetheart," Susan replied. She gave Harry a playful tap on his bum and added, "So get on with it."

"Yes, Dear," Harry snarked.

The Bloody Baron offered his own silent encouragement by waving Harry forward. The black-haired wizard straightened his shoulders, strode up to the door, and knocked.

"Enter!"

Harry glanced towards both the witches and the bloodstained ghost, then followed Snape's command.

The Potions Professor had just extracted the last of his protected memory strands from his temple, and was adding it to Dumbledore's pensieve.

"Sit!"

The-Boy-Who-Lived did so.

"You seem rather confident," Snape sneered, as he walked behind his large oak desk and leaned forward towards Harry. "Think you've found a way to protect your precious flock?"

"I don't know…Sir."

Snape snorted.

"Your attempts at showing respect for your betters are as pathetic as your shields…or the wording of that vow you insisted upon."

Harry didn't rise to the challenge and stayed silent. This didn't make Snape happy.

"Yes…you thought that you were so clever…forcing me to promise never to reveal to others what I've seen inside your brain," the Professor sneered. "Too bad you didn't demand that I…no, that would be too easy."

Harry stayed focused, and forced Snape into an awkward continuation of his "gloating villain" speech.

"Yes, Potter…it would be too easy for me to reveal the massive loophole that you've left me. I'm going to have so much….fun…during tonight's lesson."

A snort escaped from Harry's lips.

"If you say so…Sir."

The teenager's restraint was infuriating. Snape took in a deep breath, then expelled it violently.

"So what sorts of nasty things have you done with your Huffleslut, Potter? Don't think about what the chubby cow looks like starkers…I might just see for myself. And don't think about your most blatant rule breaking, or your most shameful, embarrassing moment…get caught wanking by your Auntie? Dreaming about buggering Longbottom? Best…be…careful."

Harry's eyes narrowed.

"Do your worst…Snivellus!" he hissed.

Snape raised his wand, pointed at Harry's forehead, and shouted, _"LEGILIMENS!"_

And something different happened.

Instead of a blunt force assault against the inside his head, Harry felt an overwhelming, bone-chilling wave start at the back of his head and push forward.

And instead of dropping outside of castle walls, or dropping into a High Plains landscape, Snape landed in the middle of an orchestra of thirty musical saws, screeching at full volume.

The Potions Master covered his ears and tried to dispel the memory of a Death Day celebration. He failed…and began to worry when those saws all turned their teeth in his direction.

The screeching was relentless.

The distance between the saw blades and his neck was diminishing.

And something just wasn't right.

Snape broke the spell…and found himself nose to non-corporeal nose with The Bloody Baron.

"What are you doing!" he hissed.

The ghost grinned, then pushed through Snape's head the same way that he'd pushed through Harry's.

Snape spun around just in time to see The Bloody Baron nod towards Harry before he drifted through the back wall of the office. The Professor then whirled back around and stared at his student.

"Just what do you think you were doing, Potter?"

Harry looked almost as confused as Snape felt.

"Defending myself from a _Legilimens_ attack?" he replied weakly.

Snape growled, finding it inconceivable that the Slytherin House ghost would come to The-Boy-Who-Lived's defense.

"So are you planning on keeping a ghost with you on a short leash, so that he can step in front of spells aimed at you?"

Harry shook his head. "No I wasn't…unless you know of a way to keep a ghost on a leash?"

"Insolent whelp!" Snape shouted with fury. "Just try to keep me from discovering how you got The Bloody Baron to help you!"

"Well, that will be easy enough," Harry replied truthfully (as he hadn't a clue himself).

"_LEGILIMENS!"_

Snape was dropped in front of the entrance to Gryffindor Tower…or Potter's constructed version of the entrance. While the real portal was set within a long hallway wall, the space that the Slytherin Head was now standing within was small and confining. It was as if the portrait was hung on the inside of a broom closet door.

A derisive snort escaped from Snape's lips as he examined the portrait. The grossly overweight witch who normally stood in front of Gryffindor was now reclining…spread over a silk-cushioned divan, as if she was a Rubenesque nude.

That she was wearing no more than a Rubenesque nude heightened the artistic similarities.

"Hey there, big boy," the Fat Lady purred. "Glad that you dropped in to see me."

Snape scowled. "Another one of Potter's perverse diversions," he muttered. Then he raised his wand and tried to summarily dispense with the mental construct.

It didn't work.

"What's the matter, Sevvy-poo?" the portrait asked. "You don't want to stay and visit with me?"

Snape tried harder. It still didn't work.

The Fat Lady pouted. "Now that's not nice…you don't want to hurt my feelings, do you?" she asked. Then she traced a finger from her lips down to her bared left breast, and slowly circled the nipple. "Because I'm feeling rather…frisky…at the moment, and I like those feelings."

The Potions Professor rolled his eyes as the Fat Lady then let her fingers drift towards her crotch.

"Which way do you like it, Sevvy-poo?" she cooed. "Do you like it on top…or are you more…submissive?"

The third attempt to dispel the barrier failed. Snape sighed, and decided that he best work within the scenario that Potter had developed.

"As a Hogwarts Professor, I order you to open your portrait!"

"I'm sorry, Sweetie, but I can't do that," the Fat Lady replied. Then she giggled, which caused her to jiggle in lots of different places. "Now if you ordered me to open my legs…or are you the type of man more used to ordering lovers to open their bum cheeks?"

"Why, you…._Reducto!"_

The blasting spell barely scratched the paint. An assortment of attack spells of increasing severity followed with similar results.

"Isn't going to work, Sweetie," the Fat Lady grinned. "You aren't doing anything that hasn't been tried to dislodge the portrait of Sirius Black's mother. I'm not going anywhere."

A growl escaped from the Potions Master's lips.

"Potter's Occlumency barriers can't be this impenetrable," he hissed. "There has to be a way through this portrait."

"Oh there is a way through me, Sev," the Fat Lady smiled. "But just one way…would you like a hint?"

Snape rolled his eyes. "Fine. Yes, I would like a hint."

"You'll have to do something for me first, Sev."

"And what, pray tell, is that?"

"Say the magic words."

"What...the current password to the real entrance?"

"No, silly…the magic words designed just for you."

"Dare I ask?"

"That's for you to decide, isn't it Sweet Cheeks?"

Snape huffed and puffed, but finally broke down.

"Is the magic word 'Please'?"

"That's one of them," the Fat Lady replied. "The full phrase is '_Please tell this undeserving bastard, a worthless wretch who is no better than the shite scraped off of Sirius Black's shoes, what the hint is'_."

A half-dozen new spells were hurled against the portrait, including a few that he had created himself. They still didn't work.

"I am so going to go Medieval on Potter's arse when I'm through here…" he hissed.

"Have lots of experience doing that sort of thing, Hon?"

Snape seethed, but not seeing a better alternative at the moment, broke down and spat out the disparaging request.

"Well, now, that wasn't so hard…was it?" the Fat Lady asked. She sat up on the divan, smiled, and cupped her breasts in her hands. "Unlike my nipples…can you see how hard they are, Severus? Are they making _you _hard?"

"I've said what you wanted…what is the hint?"

The Fat Lady grinned. "Do you know how to get into the Hogwarts kitchens?"

"Surely you don't mean that…"

"Sometimes I like to be tickled, too," the portrait moaned. "Tickled in just the right place…"

"If you think that I'm going to…"

"There's only one way through my entrance," the Fat Lady entrance. "And if you want to get inside…me…you're going to have to ring the doorbell."

"Madame, I see no door or doorbell in this portrait."

"Oh, I'm so silly," the Fat Lady giggled. "Why don't I give you a better view, then?"

The animated portrait gave Severus a saucy grin as she grabbed the back of an armless cushioned chair and dragged it up to the foreground of the painting. Once the chair was centered in front of the Potions Professor, the now full-scale nude sat down on its edge and spread her legs.

"I'm not…"

"Yes, I know Severus…you are not into girls," the portrait stated. She leaned back, and lifted her legs into the air. "But you'll just have to make an exception if you…hang on, I'm not close enough yet."

Snape watched with disbelief as the Fat Lady bounced the chair forward, until her legs were resting against the inside of the picture frame and her fanny was pressed against the canvas surface. The portrait's engorged vulva was now larger than life, and filled most of the painting.

"This can't be…"

"Oh yes, Sevvy-poo…it is," the Fat Lady replied. She reached down with both hands and spread herself even wider.

"Can you see my doorbell now, Honey?"

Snape could, but wasn't about to admit to it.

"I will not be humiliated this way," he hissed.

"Your choice, Sweet Cheeks," the Fat Lady replied. "I can sit here like this all day."

The Potions Professor shook his head and folded his arms across his chest.

"I sincerely doubt that you can, Madame…Potter's never been able to hold his shields up for more than a few minutes."

So he stood there and waited. And waited some more, not realizing the fault in his logic.

Harry had never actually been to the Southwestern United States, or fully experienced a real life desert landscape. He had only seen the taunting Frenchman's castle on the telly. But having his nose almost nuzzling a witch's fanny? That was something that Harry did have first hand experience with, thanks to Hermione. More experience than Snape, in fact, despite the short time span of Harry and Hermione's physical relationship.

Snape closely inspected every square inch of the portrait for alternative passages. As if she was reading his thoughts, the Fat Lady said, "Sorry, hon…I know you are probably more used to going through the back door, but I haven't worked up the courage to do Number Thirteen yet."

The Potions Master hadn't a clue what this meant, besides the obvious accusatory innuendo.

"Please, Sevvy-poo…please touch me…ring my bell and I'll let you _deep_ inside!"

"_Must be an ambush…he wants me to do this,"_ Snape thought. But seeing no better alternative, and with bile rising up from his stomach, he poked his wooden wand tip against the Fat Lady's paint-brushed clitoris.

"Ouch…gentle, Sevvy-poo!" the Fat Lady protested. "And so cold…I need your hot fingers rubbing me!"

Snape sighed, and reminded himself that this was only a mental projection. Then he pushed back his sleeve, and placed his hand against the canvas in just the right spot.

That spot was disturbingly warm, moist, and fleshy.

"Oh, yes…just like that, Loverboy!" she moaned. "You make me so wet…so excited…keep going!"

So he did, promising himself with each moan, and each gyration that Potter's mental thrashing was going to be that much more severe on the other side.

"_Don't stop….don't stop….oh, yes…oh, yes….oh, yes…"_

The fact that the Fat Lady's nub was growing both in size and slipperiness should have been a tip-off that this wasn't a real magical portrait. But Snape was so focused on what he considered to be a horrid task, that he missed all of the signals.

Until those signals hit him in the face.

"_I'm going to…I'm going to…so close…so….YES! YES! YES!"_

Who knew that The Fat Lady was a squirter?

Severus Snape did, once he was drenched by a few gallons of liquid discharge.

The inward attention paid to his predicament was so complete that it took nothing more than the mental equivalent of a gentle nudge to throw Snape out of Harry's head.

The grin on the teenager's face was wide and infuriating.

"GET OUT!" Snape bellowed.

"Erm, sure thing, Sir…see you on Wednesday, then?"

The-Boy-Who-Laughed didn't wait for an answer, and left while he was still ahead.


	13. Chapter 13

**The Python Defense**

A bawdy and slightly disturbing H/Hr crack fic by canoncansodoff

**A/N**: Spam, spam, spam, spam...Crack, crack, crack, crack.

A big thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. I really wasn't trying to whine and beg for reviews in the last A/N, but…the response was extremely encouraging, with more reviews than I'd received in the previous three chapters combined.

This chapter was once again beta'd by anyone who cared to take a look at the draft google doc version. Thanks to those who improved this chapter by their efforts.

**Brain Bleach Alert:** Harry really goes gonzo in the construction of his disturbing mental defenses in this chapter. You have been warned.

**Disclaimer:** Not my characters, no money being made, etc., etc.

**oo00OO00oo**

**Chapter 13: A Bridge Too Far?**

**oo00OO00oo**

That Lisa Turpin was still flying under the radar (or its magical equivalent) and not drawing inordinate amounts of attention meant that she was best suited for sneaking out after that evening's curfew and pacing in front of the tutu-wearing trolls.

"_I need a safe place where the four of us can talk about Harry's Remedial Potions lesson,"_ Lisa thought to herself. _"I need a safe place where the four of us can talk about Harry's Remedial Potions lesson, I need a…."_

When the doorway appeared Lisa opened it, and once more walked into Hermione's basement. The door closed behind her on its own, then disappeared from view…the best "safe place" being a room without an obvious entrance.

Lisa disappeared almost as quickly, diving behind a couch.

"Hello?" she timidly called out, after drawing her wand. "Professor Snape?"

She waited several seconds for a response that never came. Then she peeked around the furniture and called out once more. Only then did Lisa have enough nerve to come out into the open and approach the inanimate training dummy that was dressed-up to closely resemble her potions professor.

The dummy was the only obvious change to the room that they'd used to watch both Loony Tunes and lesbian porn. Lisa had no idea why a life-sized Snape doll was needed in order for the four of them to talk about Harry's latest Remedial Potions lesson. Neither did the other three, once Air Dobby provided transport from their respective dormitories.

Harry figured it out once memory-Snape began hurling pensieved insults, which is why he was quick to suggest that the four of them leave the pensieve just seconds after they had dived in.

"_SNAPE CALLED ME A HUFFLESLUT, EH?" _Susan shrieked. She drew her wand hurled a very strong hex towards the training dummy.

"_AND A CHUBBY COW AS WELL?"_ the Hufflepuff indignantly shouted, right before a second curse escaped her lips.

The other three were quick to provide support, and cast shield spells that covered Susan once the training dummy came alive and shot back at her (both magically and verbally). Within seconds that training dummy was bruised, battered, and gender-neutral.

He hadn't started out that way.

A round of drinks followed the venting of frustrations. And then there was more venting… vents that were violent enough and targeted enough to force Harry to look away. He had no love for Severus Snape, but he was still a guy, and the Room was all too eager to restore the dummy's bits after each and every successful application of the castration hex.

Susan eventually tired, and after another round of frozen alcoholic drinks (just to soothe the nerves, of course) they dove back into Harry's memory.

The four teenagers watched as the Slytherin House ghost dove through the wall of Snape's office, then dove through the back of Harry's head just in time to catch the Potion Master's _Legilimens_ spells with its eyes, rather than the wizard's.

"Thought that's what happened!" Harry declared. He turned to Hermione and asked, "What's all that about?"

His girlfriend shook her head.

"Later!" she hissed, not wanting to miss what happened next.

Once the memory played out, Harry escorted three very giggly witches out of the pensieve's basin.

"That was brilliant!" Hermione declared with a hearty laugh. "Scary…but brilliant!"

"Harry…you never told me that you were on such…intimate terms…with your House's guardian!" Susan gleefully added. "As your girlfriend, I should be very angry with you right now!"

"Now Susan," Harry said, "there are probably better targets if you are going to be jealous over a naked witch getting off inside my head."

"Really?" Hermione asked. "Like whom?"

"Erm…remember your help this morning, Sweetheart?"

"Just me, then?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Look, you guys…what you just saw…what Snape saw…it was a mental construct. My Fat Lady was a fictional character, inspired by and drawn from several different sources."

"You sure about that?" Hermione asked. "That Portrait you imagined was awfully realistic…almost too realistic. As if it was based on you seeing the same thing in real life."

"Oh, Merlin…I mean….no," Harry sputtered. "I told you this morning that the real Fat Lady was willing to put on a show, but I didn't let her."

"So what were your sources of inspiration, then?" Lisa asked. "I agree with Hermione…the level of detail was amazing."

"Well...I used the background and furniture from the portrait of Ignatia Wildsmith on the second floor."

"Who?" Lisa asked.

"Ignatia Wildsmith…the inventor of floo powder," Susan stated. "But that doesn't seem right…I've seen that portrait. She's lying down on a divan, alright…but she is skinny, and wearing robes."

"Maybe she was willing to wear a little less for Harry?" Lisa teased.

"I said that I just used the portrait's furniture," Harry said, letting out a small sigh of exasperation. "Hermione, why don't you fill in some of the blanks?"

"That wasn't all me, Mister," Hermione then declared.

"Which parts were yours, then?" Lisa asked.

Hermione blushed. Rather than immediately reply she walked towards the bar and picked up her empty glass.

"Hey boyfriend, how about another round?" she asked.

"Anything specific?" Harry asked, moving behind the counter.

"Surprise us," Hermione asked.

Her boyfriend nodded, and reached into the cabinet for a bottle of whisky, which he then mixed with soda water and served over ice into four tall glasses.

Hermione smiled at Harry and took a long drink from her glass.

"That's delicious," she told him, smiling when Susan and Lisa adding in their compliments. Hermione knew what her father would have called the drink...a near criminal abuse of single malt. But...it did taste good, and made perfect sense once Harry told them that his bartending knowledge was limited to what his Aunt and Uncle drank on Privet Drive.

"Enough stalling, Granger," Lisa finally stated. "How did you help Harry with that memory?"

Hermione smiled, and with a tongue loosened by alcohol, confessed.

"When he told me his plans this morning, I offered to be a body double."

"So that was your fanny instead of the Fat Lady's?" Lisa asked skeptically. "How could it be? You've got a fabulous body…a killer arse, and just the cutest little belly bump..."

"She does, doesn't she, girlfriend?" Susan said with a smile.

Hermione blushed, and muttered, "Oh, stop it!"

"Oh, quit being modest!" Susan insisted. "But what we just saw…I mean, not that there is anything wrong about a little extra weight, but…"

"That portrait had thunder thighs!" Lisa declared. "And massively saggy tits…and rolls of fat…and her thatch was thicker than the Forbidden Forest!"

"Almost as scary, too," Susan quipped.

A loud, obnoxious snort of laughter escaped from Harry's mouth and nose.

"Sorry, couldn't help it," he explained. "I was just picturing Hagrid putting Fang on a leash and going out for a walk in the woods…"

"Ewwwww….!"

"So whose body was that, Mister?" Hermione asked. "Anyone we know?"

The question sucked out all of the humor on Harry's face. He shut his eyes and rubbed his eyelids with thumb and index finger.

"Erm…yes, I'm afraid so."

Hermione waited impatiently for a few moments.

"And….?"

"I used Mrs. Weasley's body," Harry whispered with a wince.

"You've seen Ron's mum rub one off?" Susan asked.

"No, no…oh, God….no! The idea!"

Harry ducked his head beneath the bar and asked, "Hermione, does your dad keep any bleach around here?"

"Oh, stop!" his girlfriend protested. "So what have you seen, Harry…and when did you see it?"

Her boyfriend took some time to massage his temples.

"Summer before Fourth Year," he finally admitted. "I was at the Burrow. Needed a drink of water late one night, so I walked down the stairs towards the kitchen. Stopped short of opening the door when I heard music. So I just peeked out of the crack….and I saw Mrs. Weasley's crack."

"What was she doing?"

"She was washing the dishes."

"What…she was washing dishes in the nude?" asked Susan.

Harry let out a deep breath, and nodded.

"The Wireless was playing…low enough not to wake anyone, but loud enough for Mrs. Weasley to dance in front of the sink, and do a little spin that flashed her front side..."

"Oh, my….so then what happened?"

"I froze…then crept back upstairs as slowly and quietly as possible. Decided that cupping my hands under the bathroom sink would work just fine."

"So she didn't know that you saw her?"

"She never said anything to me about it," said Harry. "And I wasn't about say anything."

"Oh, wow…that is so…that wasn't the first time that you saw a naked witch, was it?"

"Thankfully, no," Harry replied.

"Oh, really?" asked Hermione. "Dare I ask?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "The night we won the Quidditch Cup, Third Year? I told you about the strip poker game."

"Didn't tell us, Harry," Susan said with a pout.

"And that's just as well," Lisa said curtly. "You wouldn't want Harry to tell the rest of the harem what he saw in the Owlery, would you?"

"Right. Never mind."

"Rest of the harem?" asked Harry.

"Never mind, we've gone way off-topic," Lisa noted.

"Do we really need to stay on topic?" asked Harry. "Just thinking about the dish-washing is making me throw up a little in my mouth."

"That's too bad, boyfriend," Hermione said with a slight huff. "If you don't tell us exactly how you kept Snape out of your head, then how do you expect us to keep him out of ours?"

"You three are thinking of using Tthe Fat Lady Defense too?"

"Maybe," Hermione replied.

"Shouldn't be a problem, then," Harry reasoned. "If the real Fat Lady was willing to put on a show for me, she should be just as willing if it was a female-only audience."

"Not unless her portrait can hang both ways," Lisa quipped.

"What?"

"Lisa is suggesting that the Fat Lady might fancy you, Harry," Hermione explained.

"Fancy you enough to put on that kind of show for you, and you alone."

"Can we just stop with me and the Fat Lady?" Harry nearly shouted.

"So, like Lisa said…back on topic?" Hermione asked.

Harry sighed. "Fine. Where were we…the room and furniture from the other painting, the body from Molly Weasley. I put the real Fat Lady's head on that body, and used her voice to cover what Hermione said…and what she moaned, for that matter."

"That really was Hermione's fanny cumming in front of Snape?" Lisa asked. "That's gross."

"No, that wasn't Hermione's fanny," Harry explained. "I mean…just combine my real life fingering of Hermione with…the other body. The other body reacted just like Hermione did…it got excited…and wet…and spasmed…just like Hermione did."

Susan reached over and raked her fingernails down Hermione's arm.

"Wow, Hermione…you didn't tell us that you were a squirter," she said with a grin.

"More like a gusher," Lisa added brightly.

"I'm not!" Hermione protested. She turned to Harry and said, "Tell her that part wasn't me."

"It wasn't you," Harry replied with a smirk. "Not that there's anything wrong with that…right, Susan?"

The Hufflepuff's cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"What? I don't…"

"Susan?" Lisa challenged.

"Okay, okay…but not that much!"

The Ravenclaw wrapped an arm around her girlfriend, put her lips next to Susan's ear, and whispered, "A worthy goal to strive for, eh?"

"Lisa!" Susan hissed in embarrassment.

The Ravenclaw just smiled.

"It's not that funny!" Susan declared. She turned to Harry and said, "And how did you know, anyhow? You and I haven't...I didn't do that when we were in the Owlery, did I?"

It was Hermione's turn to roll her eyes. "The other morning, Susan? When Lisa was pounding you doggy style in Harry's bed?"

"Oh…guess I was hoping that it was dark enough, and that you two were too busy doing other things to notice."

This was Harry's cue to place his lips against his girlfriend's ear and whisper, "Guess with Dobby's magic they couldn't see just where your eyes were focused?"

"Hush!" Hermione hissed.

Harry chuckled. "Okay, and just for the record, I was intentionally over-the-top with liquid volumes…just to maximize my self-defense, of course."

"Do you think that building this same kind of Occlumency barrier would work for us?" Susan asked.

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. Snape was caught off-guard by what I set up, and the element of surprise would be lost the next time."

Hermione smiled. "He'll probably cast an _Impervious _spell on himself first."

Lisa shrugged. "Well I say we use it until it doesn't work…not that I've ever seen a naked witch who was as grossly fat as Harry's Fat Lady," she noted. "Reckon' we could use this pensieved memory as a base for our own defenses?"

Harry shrugged. "It might work. I just know that the more it's based on real memories, the better." He thought about this question some more. When an idea popped into his head, he turned his attention towards the cabinets that hung on the far wall above the Muggle entertainment system.

And then he chuckled.

"What?" Lisa asked.

"Oh, I was just thinking…if you three were going to use the Fat Lady Defense, then it might be better to tweak things a bit. Maybe create your own Fat Ladies by watching other fat ladies in action."

"So….?"

"Maybe it's time for another movie?"

"Oh, honestly, Harry," Hermione sighed. "Are you thinking about fat porn?"

"Well…if it is something that we really need, the Room might…"

"What's fat porn?" asked Susan. "Is that when the actors and actresses are all fat?"

"Usually just the actresses," Hermione replied. When Harry shot her a look she quickly added, "What? So I've done some reading on the Internet?"

"Right..." Susan teased.

"Now, Harry," said Lisa, "while some of the women in the movies that we watched were…well, big boned...they weren't Fat Lady-sized."

Hermione rolled her eyes, then turned towards Susan's girlfriend.

"Those were your kind of movies, Lisa. Some heterosexual men have fetishes for fat. So there are different movies made for that audience…same for those who are into feet, or plushies, or bondage."

"And you think we could get out hands on some of this fat porn," said Susan.

Hermione shrugged.

"Lisa, you are in charge tonight…if you really are in great need of seeing this sort of thing, then…"

The Ravenclaw nodded. "Wouldn't it be better to tell the Room that what I really need now are visual images that would help us do what Harry did to keep Snape out of his head tonight?"

"Yes, that does sound like it'd have a better chance of success," Hermione agreed.

"Wait!"

The three witches turned towards Harry.

"Erm, sorry," he replied. "It's just that…it might work better because it's a better description of what you really need, but…it's also more open ended."

"Open ended?" Hermione teased. "Who said anything about watching anal sex?"

Harry dropped his face into his hands and sighed.

"What I meant to say is that you're giving the Room some wiggle room," he eventually replied. "Instead of providing more hardcore videotapes with bigger actresses, it could just as easily create a window looking into Molly and Arthur's bedroom."

Hermione winced. "Yes, well…the Room has been very helpful, Harry. If watching Mrs. Weasley rub one off is what the Room thinks would work best with regard to keeping Snape at bay, then…"

Her boyfriend covered his ears and closed his eyes.

"La-la-la-la-I can't hear you!"

"Oh, honestly, Harry!" Hermione muttered, as she pulled his hands away from his ears.

"Fine, but I don't have to be here, right?" he asked. "Because this is for you three to work on your Occlumency barriers, not me…right?"

"Don't be such a baby, Harry!"

"I'm not…it's just that…well, I've got my own work to do. Need a backup strategy for my next lesson. And so…you three have fun, work hard, and all that. I'll be in my bed if you need me."

Harry called for Air Dobby and disappeared before he could be talked into staying.

"He's such a…such a boy!" Lisa decided.

Hermione shrugged. "Well, we have established that point, haven't we?"

"In more ways than one," Susan snarked.

Lisa frowned. "Care to share, girlfriend?"

"Just talking about what we've done…done together. As a group, that is…not together as in just Harry and me."

Hermione frowned for a second, then shook her head. "So, then…just us girls?"

"Looks like it," Lisa decided, as she closed her eyes and concentrated really hard. After about ten seconds time, she opened her eyes and looked around.

"Nothing changed," she said with disappointment. "What did I do wrong?"

"Hold on," Hermione replied, as she stood and pulled her chair towards the cabinet doors. She smiled, pulled three new videotapes out, and scanned their covers.

"You've got porn!" she announced, imitating a Muggle e-mail systems computer-generated voice. "And not just fat porn, but fat lesbian porn," she added tossing one of the videotapes towards the other two.

"Lisa? Care to explain?" Susan asked.

Her girlfriend looked at the case and blushed. "Well...just imagined that…if Snape is put off by fat women having sex, then two fat women having sex is better than one?"

"Or three?" Susan noted, pointing helpfully towards one specific picture on the box cover.

Hermione closed her eyes and sighed.

"Something wrong?" Lisa asked.

The Gryffindor witch opened her eyes and shook her head. She pushed away her concerns about the three of them watching a three-way lesbian sex scene…which was really more of a concern about her potentially evolving attitudes towards sex…and gender…and sharing…and came up with something else.

"I was just thinking about our final plans for Snape," she said, stepping down from the chair. "Wondering if now is the time to bring in our secret weapon."

Lisa thought for a moment. "Well, the pilot test was successful..but is this going to help you hold up your end of the deal?"

Hermione shrugged.

"Who knows? There's a chance that it could help."

"Might not be able to get her here in the first place," Susan noted. "Not like she can ride Air Dobby."

Lisa nodded, then looked around the room.

"Maybe the Room is a step or two ahead of us?" she asked, nodding towards a closed door on the side wall. "That leads to the toilet, right?"

"It does in my basement, at least," Hermione stated. She then walked towards the door, opened it, and looked inside.

"Hello?" she called into the small, but functional wash room.

Pipes gurgled, basin water splashed, and a head popped out of the toilet bowl.

Hermione smiled, and asked, "Hello, Myrtle…care to see a show?"

**oo00OO00oo**

The next two days were slightly less extraordinary than the previous five. The four teenagers kept to their own dormitories at night (if not their own beds, in Hermione's case). There were no new attacks or new revelations in the magical press, and far fewer calls for harem formation (mostly due to the fact that the Chasers had run out of money). Harry now had Susan and Hermione on either arm as much as possible while in public, driving the odds on Hermione being primary to ridiculously low levels (and driving Ron and Ginny's levels of jealousy and despair to ridiculously high levels).

There were also no more movie nights, despite Hermione's promises to screen _"The Meaning of Life."_ The Room of Requirement was getting near-constant use from someone outside of Harry's group. The three females in the foursome seemed to know who had been monopolizing the Room, and for what purpose, but weren't in a mood to explain. Instead, they reiterated the case for plausible deniability, at least until after the next Remedial Potions lesson.

Members of the DA expressed their own concerns about the amount of time since their last lesson. Harry fixed that by providing each member of the DA with a copy of Flitwick's book on meditative techniques, and spreading word that mental defenses were just as important as wand-cast defensive spells.

Not that Harry had any idea that there would be another lesson after the successful deployment of his Fat Lady Defense. Snape hadn't said a word to him in class, and avoided making any eye contact with Harry during the meal times. It wasn't until he knocked on the Potions Master's office door at the appointed time, and was told to enter, that he knew for sure...Snape was holding his wooden wand in one hand, and a Hitachi Wand in the other. A Muggle diver's mask rested on his forehead, and dragonhide gloves reached up to his arm pits.

The Potions Master nodded towards the chair in front of him. Harry snorted, and took a seat.

"Ready, Potter?"

The teenaged wizard smiled, and in a falsetto voice moaned, _"YES! YES! YES!"_

"_LEGILIMENS!"_ Snape snarled.

This time, he dropped onto a cliff face, rather than into a broom closet.

He was on the narrowest of paths, barely a foot wide. A cold wind buffeted Snape…he crouched and hugged the rock wall in order to maintain his balance.

The cliff face formed one side of a bottomless chasm. The path itself led towards a rickety wooden bridge that connected his side to a much gentler slope on the other side.

Sheep were grazing on that gentle slope…sleep guarded not by a sheep dog, but by a human Harry Potter and three witches dressed as shepherdess. Sexy shepherdesses, that is…with wooden hooks and frilly dresses cut low-enough to expose cleavages nearly as deep as the chasm, and hemmed high enough to expose silk suspenders. They had their bodies pressed against Harry's, and were blanketing him with tender kisses and wandering hands.

There were also students on his side of the gorge…Draco, Crabbe and Goyle, all dressed in the same silly medieval knight costumes that Potter and his friends had worn the week previous.

Harry pulled a hand out from under someone's skirt and gave Snape a wave. He smiled, and shouted, "Were you expecting something different, Snivellous?"

Snape snarled, ripped the diving mask away from his face, and threw both it and the vibrator into the gorge.

"What the hell is this?" he demanded.

"It's the Bridge of Death," Draco volunteered.

The Slytherin Head of House stared first at his student, and then at the bridge that led to Potter, his witches, and the entire flock of fluffy memories that were grazing behind them.

"The what?"

"The Bridge of Death," Draco explained again.

Snape rolled his eyes, and tried to force his will into collapsing the constructed defense.

Nothing happened.

"What are you doing here?" he then asked.

Draco shrugged. "Trying to help you cross, Sir." The blond-haired wizard then pointed towards a humped-back man who stood in the exact middle of the bridge.

"That's the old man from Scene 24," he explained. "He is the keeper of the Bridge of Death. He asks each traveler five questions…"

"Three questions," Crabbe corrected.

"Three questions," Draco sighed. "He who answers the five questions…"

"Three questions."

"Three questions may cross in safety."

"And if you get these questions wrong?"

"Then you are cast into the Gorge of Eternal Peril."

"Let me have a go at it," said Goyle. "Show you how it is done."

Snape's gaze bore down on his student. He shook his head and once again tried to bash through the mental construct. When that didn't work, he tried a half-dozen different spells, any of which might have gotten him across the chasm (for example, by pseudo-apparition, or conjuring a stronger bridge). None of them worked either.

With a huff, the greasy haired git conjured a folding chair, and tried to take a seat. Unfortunately the path was too narrow for the legs, so Snape was forced to sit on the ground while he waited for the construct to collapse of its own weight.

This caught Harry's eye (an eye that had been completely focused on the shepherdesses during Snape's spell casting).

"Trying to get comfortable while you have a go at waiting me out?" he called across the gorge. "What a good idea! Think we'll relax as well."

There would have been plenty of room for the black-haired wizard to conjure up chairs, or a shared love-seat, but he had other plans…plans that involved the large hot tub that rose out of the ground on their side of the bridge.

"Care for a soak, ladies?" he asked, unbuttoning his shirt.

Hermione, Lisa and Susan were quick to agree, and almost as quick to strip off their clothes.

Snape sneered when he noticed that the teenager's uncovered bits were all covered by pixellated blurs.

"Too embarrassed to reveal your inadequacies, Potter?"

The four now-naked teenagers laughed as they lowered themselves into the bubbling warm water. "No…we just didn't want to take away any incentives for you to try to cross the bridge…got a whole flock of in-focus, high-definition naughty naked memories for you over here. If you dare, that is."

Snape stood, and briefly considered backing off, and returning to the boy's head with a broomstick in hand. But that would be a type of defeat on its own, so he decided to let the scene play out. He turned towards Greg Goyle and said, "Get on with it, then."

"Yes, Professor Snape."

When the Fifth-Year student got half-way across the bridge, the old man with wild hair and a wandering eye held out his outstretched palm.

"Stop! Who would cross the Bridge of Death must answer me these questions three, 'ere the other side he see."

"Ask me the questions, bridge-keeper," the young Slytherin replied. "I am not afraid."

"What is your name?"

"My name is Greg Goyle."

"What is your quest?"

"I'm going to the Emerald City to ask the Wizard for a brain!"

"What is your favorite color?"

"Green!"

"Right," the old man said with a wave. "Off you go."

"Oh, thank you. Thank you very much."

The Slytherin student crossed over to the other side. Once there, Hermione pulled a bit of shiny tin foil out from underneath the bubbling water, and banished it towards stage left. Goyle was quick to follow, and disappeared from the scene.

"That's easy!" Crabbe shouted. "I'm next."

"Stop! Who would cross the Bridge of Death must answer me these questions three, 'ere the other side he see."

"Ask me the questions, bridge-keeper," the teenager replied. "I am not afraid."

"What is your name?"

"My name is Vincent Crabbe."

"What is your quest?"

"To boldly go where no man has gone before!"

"What is your favorite color?"

"Silver! No…Green….aaaaaaaaaah!"

The old man giggled as Crabbe was hurled off of the bridge, screaming all the way down to the unseen bottom of the gorge.

"What an idiot!" Draco sneered, as he made his way to the bridge.

"Ask me the questions, bridge-keeper," the teenager replied. "I am not afraid."

"What is your name?"

"My name is Draco Malfoy."

"What is your quest?"

"To seek the answer to life, the universe, and everything!"

"What is the capital of Assyria?"

"I don't know that….aaaaaaaah!"

Snape carefully considered his situation as he watched Draco do a header off the bridge.

"Are you too chicken to try?" Harry yelled.

"Certainly not!"

"You _are_ a chicken," Harry declared. "Even if your mother _was_ a hamster, and your father smelt of elderberries!"

"I'll have your guts for garters…."

"Got to get to me first, you empty-headed animal food trough whopper!" Harry shouted. "I fart in your general direction!"

One of the shepherdesses slapped at the surface of the water and splashed the teen-aged wizard in the face. "Harry Potter, don't you dare fart in this tub!"

"Yes, Dear."

Snape ignored this back and forth as he considered the bridge-keeper's challenges. He just happened to not only know that the first capital of Assyria was Assur, but that the most famous Assyrian capital was Nineveh. And he had an idea to trip up the bridge-master by asking which one he wanted, in the hope that the old man would say "I don't know" and be himself thrown over the side.

Ready to trip up the bridge-keeper and (by extension) Potter himself, Snape strode with confidence towards the bridge. He paid no mind to the evil grin that Harry's avatar was wearing on the far side, assuming wrongly that it was due to the underwater hand-job that that two of the witches appeared to be providing him.

"Stop! Who would cross the Bridge of Death must answer me these questions three, 'ere the other side he see."

"Ask me the questions, bridge-keeper," Snape sneered. "I am not afraid."

"What is your name?"

"My name is Severus Snape."

"What is your quest?"

"To seek the memories grazing on the far side of this bridge!"

"Who….is your least favorite Potter?"

"Harry...no, James….aaaaaaaah!"

Snape's body was held in mid-air over the bottomless gorge, for a few moments...just enough time for him to look helplessly towards the hot tub. Harry was silent...but there was a wide smile on his face as he pulled out a "Wil. E. Coyote"-style sign that simply said, "Bye-Bye!"

Tears formed on the Potions Master's face as "gravity" woke up and exerted its control over his body. He turned his attention towards the direction he was now falling, then quickly wished that he hadn't.

The gorge had morphed into a gap between two giant-sized legs…giant-sized spread legs that were attached to a giant-sized naked Dolores Umbridge. And that gorge was quickly narrowing towards its bottom...which wasn't actually a bottom, but rather a fanny.

A gaping fanny framed by an unruly thicket of pubic hair.

"Aaaaaaah!"

Plop.

"aaaaah!" Snape shouted mutely, his voice muffled by the folds that he'd just fallen head first and waist-deep into.

"_get me out of here! get me out of here! get me out of here!"_

"If you insist," Harry replied, as he mentally levitated his witch-filled hot tub, and lowered it at a gentle rate down to the base of the gorge. Once he got close enough to legs that were flailing and kicking, he reached out and gave one of Snape's kneecaps the slightest of one-fingered nudges.

And pushed them both back out into the real world.

"Well that was fun," Harry decided. He was polite enough to wait for Snape to completely empty out his stomach before asking if the Professor wanted to make another attempt.

There was nothing at all polite about the way in which the Potions Master ordered Harry to get out of his sight.

**oo00OO00oo**

When Air Dobby touched down and Harry landed at his destination, he took a quick look around Hermione's basement and smiled. "His" three witches were already at the bar, and a fourth glass was already poured.

"There you are," said Harry. "What are you three up to?"

"Doing our homework," Hermione said with a smile, pointing towards the books that sat opened on the bar top.

Harry focused more on the umbrella drinks that sat next to the books and snorted.

"Sure you are...so did the Room finally become available again...or have you three been keeping it busy the whole time?"

"Neither," Lisa said. "Though it's fair to say that we've held the Room in this configuration for someone else's use."

"Anybody I know?"

"Yes."

"But they're not here now?"

"She stepped out for a few minutes," said Susan.

"Stepped?" snorted Lisa.

Her girlfriend shrugged. "More or less."

"So how did it go tonight, Harry?" asked Hermione.

The black-haired wizard smiled as he raised his drink to his lips. Once half of its contents had disappeared, he put the glass down and replied, "It was brilliant. Worked perfectly the first time, and Snape was too brassed off to have a second go at me."

The three witches wanted to see for themselves, but had to settle for Harry's retelling. When Dobby was asked to retrieve the Pensieve from Snape's office, he returned empty-handed and apologetic, for the Potions Master was still using it to mix his dry-heaved bile with the whispy memories of being swallowed up by Umbridge's sex.

Once again, the three witches found the scene far funnier than Snape had. They were intrigued, though, by Harry's use of a mentally constructed hot tub. He passed it off as a kind of teaser...an enticement to goad Snape into trying to cross the bridge. He emphasized the fact that the Potions Master had only gotten a blurred view of anyone's bits, and was careful not to mention the part where Susan's avatar had helped Hermione's avatar give his avatar a hand-job while Lisa's avatar watched and rubbed herself off.

And it wasn't just because he felt guilty about it...it was also because he didn't understand why it had occurred. Yes, he'd created the hot tub, and the shepherdesses, but he hadn't intended them to be so physically active. It was as if an unconscious part of his brain had taken control of the three witches, and enticed them to do what Harry's conscious brain was too afraid (or too noble) to do.

The three witches were curious about the details, but willing to let the question rest for the moment once Harry found a good way to change the topic.

"So what's been playing on the telly these past couple of days?" he asked, nodding towards the entertainment system.

"Oh, I'm not certain," Hermione replied carefully. "We haven't been the ones watching."

"So it's this mystery guest who has been hogging the room just to watch porn?"

"Well..."

"So who is it, then?" Harry asked. Then he got up from the bar and started to walk towards the other side of the room. "Wait, don't tell me...maybe I can guess based on the titles."

Harry stopped short when he got close enough to the entertainment system to spot what had been hidden from his view by the leather sofa.

"Hermione?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"Why is there a toilet in front of the telly?"

"Erm...sorry, Lisa's still in charge of room configuration."

"Lisa?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"This toilet have anything to do with the kind of movies that are being shown?"

"Oh, that's gross!"

"What's gross?" asked Susan.

"Harry is talking about water sports," Hermione replied.

"And you knew what I was talking about because...because you read a lot and have Internet access at home, right?" asked Harry.

"Do you think there would be some other reason?" Hermione challenged.

"Oh, relax...just teasing you."

"What are water sports?" asked Susan.

"I'll tell you later," Lisa whispered to her girlfriend. The Ravenclaw then turned to Harry and said, "It's got more to do with who is watching the movies."

"Somebody out there prefers to sit on the toilet while they watch the telly?" Harry asked incredulously.

Susan giggled. "You could say that it makes her feel more at home."

Harry frowned. "Makes her feel...oh. Don't tell me that it's..."

As if on cue, the toilet lid popped up and Moaning Myrtle rose half-way out of the basin with a splash of water.

"Sorry, girls...Prefect's Bath is still...oh. Hello, Harry. So good to see you!"

The-Boy-Who-Lived was too started by the ghost to immediately respond. Startled not just by the ghost, but by the ghost's lack of ghostly clothing.

"Erm...hello. Hello, Myrtle," he stammered. "Good to see...you?"

The ghost giggled as she ran her hands up her torso.

"Like what you see, Harry?" she asked, cupping the bottoms of her semi-transparent B-cup breasts. Myrtle then licked her lips and slowly drew herself fully from the basin, in a slow clockwise swirl that gave the shocked wizard a complete view of her ghostly bits.

"Come to see some movies with me...or just come to see...me?" she teased.

Harry turned nervously towards the three living witches.

"Somebody going to tell me what's going on here?" he begged.

Hermione and the other two shared glances, then broke out in laughter.

"C'mon, then...let's save the boy from dying from embarrassment," said Lisa, grabbing her drink and walking away from the bar. Susan and Hermione agreed, and joined the other three.

"Let's have a seat and I can explain, okay?" Hermione asked.

Harry looked at Myrtle, then at Hermione. Then he slowly nodded his head, and warily took a seat on the sofa next to his girlfriend.

"Now, we still can't tell you everything, but..."

"Why not? That's what you promised," Harry countered. "Explanations after this last lesson."

"Well, yes, but...we still need to keep some of the plan secret," Hermione explained. "Unless everything else can be lined up before your next lesson?"

"Like what?"

"Like everything that needs to be lined up before we exact our revenge," said Lisa. "Your Godfather's freedom, for example."

Harry sighed as he closed his eyes and shook his head. "Right, so...what can you tell me?"

Hermione patted Harry's thigh. "Oh, don't be so mopey...it's not like you aren't going to enjoy this next part."

Her boyfriend warily opened his eyes.

"I'm going to enjoy a next part that involves a naked ghost?"

"Ooooh, I hope so!" the naked ghost giggled.

"Calm down, Myrtle," whined Hermione.

"Remember our deal!" the ghost said, using a high-pitched sing-song voice.

Harry's eyes went wide.

"Hermione, please don't tell me that I'm supposed to...?"

"No, Harry...it's not that," the Muggleborn was quick to counter.

"So what is it?"

"Myrtle has...well, she's agreed to be part of our revenge team," said Hermione. "She'll be a vital team member."

"Can a ghost _be_ vital?" snarked Lisa.

"Shush!" said Hermione. "Now, because of plausible deniability we can't say exactly what she'll be doing, but...we need your help now, Harry, if she's going to be able to do her job."

"So I'm the payment for services rendered?" asked Harry.

"No, no...we need your help getting Myrtle ready to do her job," said Lisa.

Harry furrowed his eyebrows.

"And exactly how am I going to help a naked ghost do her job?"

Hermione decided that it was time to stop beating around the bush and provided her boyfriend with the details.

Her boyfriend didn't believe her.

"You're taking the mickey out of me!"

"No, we're serious!"

"No you're not, he's at...that place...although from the sounds of it, he'd much rather be here at the moment."

Susan gave Harry a comforting smile as she slipped next to him on the sofa (side opposite of Hermione) and placed an arm around his shoulder.

"We're not asking you to go all the way with this, Harry," she said. "At least not with anyone other than Hermione."

"Well I'm asking him to!" Myrtle pouted.

Hermione shook her head. "You are the audience, Myrtle...not the performance director." Then she turned to Harry and overlapped her arm over Susan's.

"She's right, you know...just think of this as an extension of all of the other performances we've done to establish mental alibis...the only difference is the intended audience."

Harry gave his girlfriend a calculating look.

"Are you sure that this isn't just some elaborate form of boyfriend test?"

Hermione smiled, and patted Harry's thigh.

"I'm sure...and I'll be sure to let you know if that changes," she insisted. "Because I _will _be the stage director through all this."

"And the lead actress too...right?" Harry asked.

His girlfriend smiled, nodded, then leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on his lips.

"_Abso-fucking-lutely!"_ she whispered huskily.

Harry's breath caught in his throat as the hand that had been placed on his thigh for reassurance moved north...for other reasons. He moaned, and leaned forward to return his girlfriend's kiss.

"So...is it time for the opening act?" he whispered.

Hermione smiled, and licked her lips.

"Almost," she replied. "Just have to have everyone's costuming ready."

Harry was about to ask what kind of costumes Hermione had in mind, but figured it out when she pulled off her robes, then reached for his trouser zipper. Susan slipping off her knickers while Lisa stood up and began to strip down provided supporting evidence on the intended wardrobes (or lack thereof).

And the one witch who was already naked smiled. And watched. And began to rub her ghostly fanny with her ghostly fingers...with the hope that the sexual performance that she was about to witness would be good...just as good as rancid meat was bad.


	14. Chapter 14

**The Python Defense**  
A bawdy and slightly disturbing H/Hr crack fic by canoncansodoff

**A/N**: Spam, spam, spam, spam...Crack, crack, crack, crack.

Couldn't resist using some recent quotes regarding a certain scene within a certain theatrical release. And if it isn't already obvious by the time you've finished this chapter...I've stopped posting this story on portkey. So...harem-mongers, rejoice! Just don't get to excited, or think this means that Hermione is going to instantly borrow Lisa's toy and insist that Harry help her double-team harem applicants.

This chapter was once again beta'd by anyone who cared to take a look at the draft google doc version. Thanks to those who improved this chapter by their efforts.

**Brain Bleach Alert:** No horrible treatment of Snape this time. Catch your breath, cause the next visit inside Harry's brain will be a doozie.

**Disclaimer:** Not my characters, no money being made, etc., etc.

**oo00OO00oo**

**Chapter 14: Harem pool-ooza**

Hermione Granger's intensely erotic dream turned intensely thought-provoking when she woke and realized that the length of flesh pressing against her body was more toy than todger.

The naked Muggleborn listened for a few moments, with her eyes still closed and body stilled. She was trying to gauge who and what body parts were where within the bed provided by the Room of Requirement. Skin contact helped place Susan right in front of her, with Harry spooning behind the pig-tailed witch.

Silicone contact placed Lisa spooning behind Hermione.

She reached back very deliberately, and gently moved the toy so that it was pointing in a more comfortable and less dangerous direction. Only then did she open her eyes...and find herself staring straight into Susan's twinkling baby blues.

"Good morning," the Hufflepuff whispered.

"Mornin'," Hermione replied (a bit more nervously). "I was just...she fell asleep with it still strapped on, and it was poking me in the back..."

"No worries," the Hufflepuff replied brightly. "I had to do the same thing."

Hermione let out a very quiet snort, then glanced down at her boyfriend's hand, wrapped tightly around Susan's tummy. She then compared it to the feminine hand that was presently wrapped around hers.

"Seems like you and I switched places last night," she noted.

Susan's eyes flashed. "Actually, I think that they were the ones that swapped out...want to switch back?"

Hermione shook her head. "I'm fine...let them sleep."

"Comfortable, then?" Susan asked.

The Muggleborn nodded.

Susan chewed on her lower lip for a moment, and then asked, "Comfortable with what happened last night?"

Hermione thought for a few seconds, then nodded.

"Myrtle seemed happy enough with the performance."

"I'm more worried about you being happy."

"Me? Why? This was mostly my idea, right?"

Susan rolled her eyes.

"Having an idea doesn't force you stay in love with it once that idea is acted upon."

"No...I'm fine. Excellent performances all around...it really looked like you and Lisa were getting off on the simulated het sex."

"Erm...well, good," Susan replied tentatively. "You were a brilliant actress too, you know."

"Oh, stop."

"No, really!" Susan teased. "When it came time for you to kiss me, I thought it was going to be like a soft, sensual sort of moment...but you were an animal!"

"Me? An animal?"

"Yes, you...you really went for it, I have to say. That scene caught me slightly off guard."

Hermione blushed. "I guess I just realized that I would have fewer takes to do if I just got on with it and just gave Myrtle what she wanted, which was a passionate kiss."

The pig-tailed witch giggled. "Well, full marks...anyone watching would have thought that you were a lesbi...well...bi-curious, at least."

"That was the idea...right?"

"So, just so that we're clear...we are all acting, here...right?" Susan asked. "Performing with a singular goal in mind?"

Hermione shook her head.

Susan's eyes went wide. "So you really are bi-curious?"

The other witch chuckled. "No, silly...we've got more than one goal. Revenge? Of course. But don't forget why we began all of this pretending in the first place."

The Hufflepuff nodded seriously. "You and Harry are doing this to cover for Lisa and me."

Hermione scowled. "No! We are doing this to cover for the pervy boyfriend who spied on you two in the Owlry."

Susan shook her head. "Either way, don't think we don't appreciate what you are doing for us. And I mean _you,_ specifically, Hermione...sharing your boyfriend with us."

"Oh, please."

"No, really...we all know that Harry wouldn't do anything to risk mucking things up with you. He's only playing along and covering for us so long as you are willing to play along."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You make it sound as if this is some big sacrifice for me."

"So it isn't?"

The Muggleborn smiled, then leaned forward and surprised Susan with a light kiss on the lips.

"I thought that your kisses were rather brilliant, too," Hermione admitted. "And I know that Harry likes them...maybe we should be thanking Lisa for sharing you with us, or thanking you for sharing Lisa?"

Susan's eyes danced as she thought about hidden meanings and potential opportunities behind Hermione's openness...and her openness to being open.

"So...more performances today?"

"I think we should...you two up for it?"

Susan glanced back over her shoulder, pressed back against Harry's body, and smirked.

"Well, our boyfriend is definitely up for it."

Hermione pushed back against Lisa and teased, "So is our girlfriend."

"Yes, but she cheats."

"Is that a complaint?"

"Oh, lord, no!"

The two witches shared both a giggle, and a second morning kiss.

Susan then leaned her head back and sighed.

"Not to cut this short...but I've got to pee."

Hermione lifted up high enough to look over Susan's shoulder.

"Myrtle's bedside toilet is available right now," she whispered.

Susan blushed. "Not quite ready to do _that_ in front of Harry."

"He's asleep!"

"Doesn't matter."

"I could distract him for you?"

The Hufflepuff shook her head. "Let him sleep. Merlin knows he needs it, after the way you tired him out last night."

"The way we tired him out?"

"That too."

Just then the room changed around them. What had been Hermione's basement with a bed morphed into a luxurious, marble-tiled lavatory, with their bed sitting within an over-sized stall.

Susan popped her head up.

"Good morning, Lisa...thanks!" she whispered.

"No worries," Lisa muttered. "I have to go, too."

The two witches rose from the bed, and left the marble-walled stall hand-in-hand.

Once the door swung shut, Hermione leaned forward and kissed Harry on the nose.

"You can stop pretending to be asleep."

Harry smiled, and slowly opened his eyes.

"I just woke up!" he protested, leaning forward.

"Sure you did," Hermione countered, pushing her boyfriend back.

"So...about last night?" she asked.

Harry nodded. "Yeah...about last night. Regrets?"

"I was about to ask you that."

"Sorry, beat you to it."

"I had...I liked the fact that you seemed to be enjoying yourself."

"That's not a proper answer!" Harry protested.

"Too bad...what about you, boyfriend?"

Harry shrugged. "Like you said...it's for a good cause...or good causes, right?"

"As if you don't get anything out of the deal."

"I could say the same of you!"

Hermione stared into Harry's eyes, then smiled.

"Yes, I guess that you can," she admitted. "And you're still okay with that?"

"I am if you are."

"Good."

Harry's eyes lit up mischievously. "So, just to be clear...my gorgeous girlfriend isn't bi-curious, she's just a very good actress, right?"

"Right."

"Not that there's anything wrong with that, and not that I would be upset or worried if my gorgeous girlfriend was bi-curious...or even just bi."

"Erm...okay."

"So...are you?"

"Erm..."

"Need more data in order to make an informed response?"

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"No worries," Harry teased. "Is my gorgeous girlfriend at least harem-curious, then?"

"You wish!"

"Would my wishes influence your answer?"

"Of course they would," she replied. "So...can we just promise to be open with each other, and promise that either one of us will put a stop to all of this if it starts getting in the way of just you and me?"

Harry thought about what she said, then pulled her into a very tight embrace.

"I promise," he whispered into her ear.

"Me too."

"Good," said Harry. "So...just how big will the harem be?"

"You'd let me decide?" Hermione teased.

"Of course," he countered.

"I'll let you know, then."

"Fair enough...and what about the cast for these performances...bigger than four?"

Hermione smiled. "Well...we've had some preliminary talks with some of the other witches who were put at risk by Snape's attack..."

"Really?"

"Anyone on that list that you wouldn't want to share the stage with?"

Harry thought for a moment.

"Well, Ginny, of course..."

"Of course."

"Other than that..."

Hermione looked down the length of Harry's body, and smiled.

"Looks like I've got my answer," she teased, loosely grabbing his erection.

He looked down, and shook his head. "I woke up with that answer, sweetheart."

"So what was the original question?" Hermione teased.

Harry rolled on top of Hermione, and wiggled his hips.

"Let me show you."

Hermione snorted, and pushed him off.

"Save it for the show, boyfriend."

Harry laughed. "Who would have thought that my gorgeous girlfriend was such an exhibitionist?"

"Is that a complaint?"

Harry snorted. "So...shall we find an audience, then?"

Hermione waggled her eyebrows, and rolled off the bed.

"I think I know where I can scare one up..."

**oo00OO00oo**

Daphne Greengrass's intensely erotic dream turned intensely horrific once she woke up, and realized that the length of flesh pressing against her naked body was more python than penis.

A hoarsely whispered plea for her best friend's help fell against spell-silenced curtains.

A reach for the wand that had been stashed under the pillow came up empty.

What to do?

Remembering an offer made, the witch whispered a House Elf's name.

Dobby was quick to respond, and even quicker to identify the need once he arrived. A burst of magic from his outstretched hand levitated the snake away from Daphne's body.

"You shall _not _harm Harry Potter Sir's Harem!"

The snake was then hurled upwards at a very high rate of speed. It crashed through the bed canopy, and went splat against the dormitory's ceiling.

Daphne was spirited away before the blood and guts could drip back down upon her.

Her feet landed on a wet tiled floor within spa-quality shower room. Her jaw nearly dropped to that tiled floor when her mind processed what she'd dropped into.

It was a four-person daisy chain...of sorts.

Harry Potter behind Hermione Granger, who was behind Susan Bones, who was behind Lisa Turpin, who was behind Harry. They were each using a hand-held shower head to rinse shampoo from the head of hair in front of them. And there was giggling…and groping, and a ghost.

A naked masturbating ghost.

"Erm…hello?" she asked tentatively.

Hermione dropped her shower head, grabbed her wand, covered her crotch, and spun around.

"Daphne?" she asked.

"Erm…yeah…me. I just woke up…somebody stole my wand and dropped a poisonous snake in my bed."

"Dobby?" asked Harry, keeping his unfocused gaze on the smaller of their two guests.

"Dobby be checking on Miss Greenie's wand and Miss Greenie's girlfriend being safe!" the House Elf shouted, just before he popped off.

Hermione pulled a row of thick terrycloth robes off of their hooks, tossed three of these robes to her shower mates, then helped Daphne slip into the fourth.

"Show's over?" somebody whined.

Daphne spun towards the masturbating ghost, amazed by the question.

"Yes, Myrtle, this scene is over," Hermione snapped.

The ghost pouted.

"Then can I get my telly and naughty movies back?"

"Maybe later, Myrtle," Susan replied, as she reached for the last bathrobe.

"That's okay…might be someone to watch in the Prefect's Bath," the ghost said.

Harry shook his head as he pulled his glasses from a robe pocket, then watched the ghost dive into a floor drain.

He turned his focus back to the now covered-up witch. "So, Daphne…are you sure that you're okay?"

The Slytherin teen nodded.

"My knight in shining tea-towel showed up just in time."

The little knight popped back into the Room carrying Daphne's wand.

"Harry Potter Sir's Miss Greenie's friend be safe and told not to worries. Dobby be finding Miss Greenie's wand kicked under Pansy Parkinson's bed."

Harry snorted. "What a surprise."

Dobby handed the wand to Daphne, then popped away again.

"They're getting sneakier," she noted, as she slipped her wand into a robe pocket and took a second look around the room. When she noticed the four now-empty wall hooks, she turned towards the still-naked Gryffindor witch.

"Would you like your robe back?" she asked coyly.

Hermione smiled, shook her head, then walked up to Harry and pulled him close.

"I can always share," she said sweetly, pressing her body hard against his.

"Well that's clear enough," Daphne snarked, as she glanced towards Lisa and Susan.

The two teens were more worried than amused.

"Oh, relax," Daphne said dismissively. "I'm sure that there was a perfectly reasonable explanation for what I saw. Not my business how this harem plays with itself...though the perving ghost part was rather kinky…"

Hermione chewed on her lower lip. Once she made a decision, she broke free of Harry's hug and whispered something into Lisa's ear. The Ravenclaw witch nodded, and closed her eyes. A few seconds later, a door appeared on the wall.

"Harry…will you step outside for a bit?" Hermione asked. "The four of us need to have a little chat."

"No, that's alright," the Slytherin said. "The four of you obviously have some unfinished business, with or without an audience…I can just wait outside…"

"No…I insist," Hermione replied. "You've had a terrible fright, and Harry can take care of himself.

"Are you sure that he can handle that?" Daphne snarked, her eyes darting towards Harry's robe-covered crotch.

The teen-aged wizard snorted.

"I think that I can handle myself," he said.

"But it's so much more fun when you let us help," Susan purred, as she opened her bath robe back up and let it slip to the floor.

"Not helping, Susan," Hermione hissed, shaking her head at the sight of Susan shaking her boobs from side to side.

"Yes, Dear," she snarked, catching her bits in a full stop. But then keeping her hands on them, and running her thumbs across her nipples.

Harry shook his head and smiled as he opened the Room of Requirement's newly-created door and closed it behind him. Most of Hermione's basement was on the other side…the shower room had replaced the end with the Muggle entertainment system. And replacing the telly and naughty videotapes….?

"Oh, shit!" Harry hissed.

Both the door and the wall set within it were sound-proof, but transparent…giving Harry a clear view of the four witches on the other side.

It wasn't what he saw that shocked him…while Lisa and Daphne had hung their robes back on hooks, he'd already seen all four witches naked. What surprised Harry was that he could see them at all, since Lisa was still in charge of the Room. Might have made sense if Myrtle was in the audience…but she wasn't, so…what was Lisa's game?

The witches were now huddled around Daphne, giving her hugs and acting very friendly towards the Slytherin. Harry suspected that she had been working with the others in some capacity…seeing her with the Bloody Baron outside of Snape's office was proof enough of that. But he didn't know they were _this _friendly.

Daphne seemed to be in fair enough spirits, despite the snake in the bed experience…almost in too good a mood, as if she was used to dealing with this of threat. Either that, or the Slytherin witch was putting on a brave front as she smiled mischievously and grabbed Susan's bum when the Hufflepuff gave her a hug.

The Boy-Who-Lived snorted, and shook his head. They were talking now, but had also picked the shower heads back up and reestablished the chain with Daphne taking his place.

It was a sight to behold, and damn was it inspiring!

He opened his bathrobe, sat on the sofa facing the see-through wall, and surrendered to temptation.

A few furtive moments later he was finished.

He was sitting there, holding himself and catching his breath, when Dobby popped back into the room with tea service and a change of clothes.

Harry didn't flinch, or move his hand his away from his willie… a sign either of Harry's debauchery or Dobby's unflappable attitude around "The Great Harry Potter, Sir," and his harem. That none of the witches bothered to cover their bits when Dobby popped into their side of the room with their clothes gave support for the latter hypothesis.

The teenage wizard cleaned himself up, poured himself a cup of tea, and dressed while the four witches finished their wash-up. He monitored their progress, all in a nod to "Constant Vigilance!" (of course). He was too tired and too sore to think about another wank as the girls rubbed each other's bodies, scrubbed each other's backs, and did up each other's hair…but not too tired to file the patronus-worthy memory away for future inspiration.

Worries about what they'd think when they discovered his voyeurism were misplaced; whatever request Lisa thought up once they were all dressed made the barrier disappear completely, turning two rooms back into one. They walked towards Harry side-by-side, each dressed in their house robes.

Harry grinned.

"What?" Hermione asked.

He shook his head, not wanting to risk ire over presumption if he started talking about a "four of a kind" harem with one witch from each house.

"Business all finished, then?" Harry asked cheekily.

"Know you too well to imagine that you didn't finish yours," Hermione teased, as she sat down on the sofa next to Harry and planted a kiss on his cheek.

"So what's the plan?" he asked.

"Can't tell you that, boyfriend," Susan said, as she sat on Harry's other side and mirrored Hermione's kiss.

"Any new information that I can be trusted with, then?" he asked.

Lisa shook her head and sat down on Susan's lap.

"We're good, Harry," she said.

"We're good even when we're bad," Daphne added with a giggle, as she brazenly mirrored Lisa and made use of Hermione's lap.

Harry arched an eyebrow. When Hermione smiled and wrapped an arm around Daphne's waist, he arched the other eyebrow.

"Did you imagine all of the pervy things we just did?" she asked.

The only wizard in the room snorted.

"Oh, I think I had a pretty good idea of what you four were up to," he replied, risking a wink in Lisa's direction. "So you really can't tell me what you have decided? What about the snake? What about Daphne's safety?"

The Slytherin smiled. "Well, we did all agree that I'll need a safer place to sleep over the next few nights."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Any particular place in mind?"

Lisa grinned. "Let's just say that you might want to work on your bed-expansion charms today."

"Really?" he asked. "Maybe the time would be better spent brewing stamina potions?"

"Is that a complaint!" Lisa pouted.

Daphne giggled. "There is another option, you know."

"Another way to ensure your safety within your own house?" asked Harry.

Hermione nodded. "But that was something that we really couldn't act on without your help."

"Why is that?" Harry asked, using a slightly sarcastic tone. "You'd need my opinion?"

Daphne giggled. "No, silly…I'd need your signature."

"What?"

Dobby anticipated the summons and popped into the Room with a thick envelope in his hand.

"Here be Miss Greenie's papers!" he announced, placing the envelope in Harry's hand. He snorted when he recognized the broken seal.

"Are you serious?"

Hermione giggled.

"No, she's Daphne."

"The offer still stands?"

"Yes…subject to committee approval, of course."

"What committee?" Harry asked, as he opened the envelope, held it upside down, and shook it.

"Those already in the harem, of course," Daphne replied. She then asked, "Looking for something?"

"Just checking," he said innocently, looking into the opened sleeve.

Hermione sighed. "Do you really need those pictures now?"

"Well, they are part of this official contract, aren't they?"

"Sorry, Harry…I destroyed those photographs once you returned them to me."

"That's too bad…guess it's an incomplete proposal, then."

"We'll just have to shoot some more, then," Hermione said matter-of-factly.

"You're having me on!" Harry protested.

Daphne shrugged. "Might have problems finding a unicorn on short-notice."

Hermione smiled. "Oh, I think we might be able to find some willing stand-ins."

Harry waggled his eyebrows at the Slytherin. "Hermione, did you know that Daphne was nuzzling that unicorn, and petting her naked in that photograph?"

The Muggleborn grabbed Daphne's green and silver-striped tie, pulled her head down and planted a firm kiss on her lips.

"Okay, Harry…there's the nuzzle," Hermione said huskily. "Shall I ask if she wants to pet me naked?"

Harry caught his breath, and held that breath (and his mouth) open as he stared at his girlfriend.

After a pregnant pause she held an opened palm towards Lisa.

"Told you I could render him speechless."

Lisa rolled her eyes as she fished a sickle out of her pocket.

"I'd still like to hear him answer that question," she teased.

Hermione chuckled as she nodded towards the tent in her boyfriend's lap.

"I think that he just did."

Harry shook the pervy thoughts from his head.

"We are going to have a serious discussion about this in the near future…right?"

"A Sirius discussion?"

"You know what I mean."

Hermione smiled. "I think that we can find some time today in between performances."

Harry snorted. "Performances? Plural?"

His girlfriend smiled. "Rest up, boyfriend…we've got a 2:30 matinee to do."

"We haven't given her enough material to work with?"

"Oh, no, Harry," Susan said brightly. "We need variety…to make Myrtle happy and make Snape's brain explode even more spectacularly."

Harry frowned. "So who…"

"I think that Susan should be the star this afternoon," said Hermione.

"Susan? And…this is still an acting job, right?"

"Absolutely," replied the pig-tailed witch, giving both Hermione and Lisa a reassuring nod.

Daphne shook her head in disbelief. "Still can't believe you're doing this."

"Do you have a better idea?" asked Lisa.

The Slytherin shook her head. "I'd rather have a better role."

"Hermione is in charge of casting," Susan quipped.

Lisa grinned. "Do you know what a casting couch is, Daphne?"

Harry stood, and turned away from the couch before his pointed interest in the answer to that question became even more obvious.

**oo00OO00oo**

Harry and his four-of-a-kind, not-yet-harem walked together into the Great Hall. Daphne headed towards the Slytherin table to reassure Tracy of her safety, and Lisa chose to eat with her own house. That Susan stayed by Harry's side as he sat at the Gyffindor table surprised no one, and drew no interest.

Harry chose a chair that gave him a clear view of Daphne's position, then dived into his breakfast with great gusto.

"Hungry there, mate?" Fred asked from his spot a few chairs down the table.

"Famished," the black-haired wizard replied, once he wolfed down a full rasher of bacon. "Got to keep my energy up, you know?"

The Twin gave Harry a knowing grin. The reaction of the witch sitting to Harry's left was less positive.

"Just so long as you keep your table manners up at the same time," Hermione noted.

Harry turned and rakishly placed a kiss on her cheek. "Yes, Dear."

"Don't you _'Yes, Dear' _Hermione, Harry," said the witch sitting on Harry's right. "Slovenliness isn't sexy."

Harry grinned as he swiveled his head and gave Susan's cheek a kiss.

"Yes, Dear."

Neville Longbottom, who was sitting across the breakfast table, shook his head in disbelief.

"Not to dampen your enthusiasm, Harry, but…you might want to tone down the public displays of affection with the Hogsmeade weekend coming up."

"Thanks for the reminder, Neville," Susan said brightly. "I know that Harry wouldn't do _anything _that would give the bastards an excuse for a detention that would keep him from taking his girlfriend to Hogsmeade."

"Language, Susan!" Hermione teased.

The Hufflepuff leaned forward and blew the Muggleborn witch a kiss.

"Yes, Dear."

"Gah!" Ron choked.

"_Glare!"_ Ginny glared.

Most everyone else at the table laughed at the antics. Harry, Susan, and Hermione had accepted the teasing with good-humor, and displayed a level of maturity and confidence that made it hard other students to do much more than smile, and possibly chant, "Harem! Harem! Harem!" Not everyone was happy with the situation, of course…but Ron and Ginny had been too ridiculous and too over-the-top in their negative reactions for anyone else to take what the two youngest Weasley children said seriously.

"Hey, Hermione?" George called out. "Think we finished that project last night. Tried to find you, but…."

"But she was too busy being a scarlet woman?" Ron snarked.

His older brother stared down the length of the table, and shook his head sadly.

"Don't be so _constipated_, Ron," George called out.

Harry's former best mate rolled his eyes. But then his stomach rolled. And flipped. And started to move things along.

A look of alarm appeared near instantly on Ron's face. Without saying a word he pushed back from the table and ran towards the exit.

The Gryffindors looked to George for an explanation.

He shrugged. "What…you think it was something I said?"

The consensus opinion was expressed by Hermione.

"Yes."

"Oh, well…that would be a rather brilliant wandless verbal trigger on a bowel loosening hex, wouldn't it?"

"Yes, it would," Hermione replied, shaking her head.

"C'mon, Hermione…Ron has been rather constipated this past week, don't you think?"

"Still rather nasty, though."

"Could have been worse," George shrugged. "Not like I used the word _flow_ in a sentence when I was talking with my little sister."

Hermione caught her breath and looked down towards Ginny. She glared back.

"Used _flow_ as part of a specific phrase," Fred helpfully added.

"I suggest that you don't," Hermione said sternly. "Unless you wanted to experience that monthly visit first hand?"

Fred snorted. "Sorry, luv…don't have the right plumbing for that sort of thing."

"That could be arranged, Weasley," Angelina Johnson called out.

Both Fred and George winced.

"Right, then…moving right along…point is, Hermione, that we've now got some time to help you with your special project."

"Special project?" asked Seamus.

Ginny snorted. "Yeah, real special…Hermione is trying to invent a portable toilet."

"Portable toilet?" asked Lavender. "Don't we have those already? You know…chamber pots?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "And you'd want to carry a personal chamber pot around with you all day long?"

"Ron might have found that useful a few moments ago," Harry snarked.

"Stop!" Hermione gently chided. She then turned to Lavender and said, "I was thinking about something that was pocket-sized…something that could be expanded to full-size then shrunk back down with voice activation."

"A full-size toilet?" asked Parvati. "Something big enough to sit on rather than squat over?"

Hermione nodded. "Complete with U-bend."

"Too much information," Seamus said with a headshake.

Harry shook his head and leaned towards Hermione's ear.

"Is this part of our revenge?" he whispered.

His girlfriend smiled and nodded her head. Then she leaned towards Harry's ear and whispered back.

"Myrtle wants a portable viewing platform."

Harry furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

Hermione sighed, and whispered, "So that she can watch in places where there isn't any plumbing."

Eyes flashed with understanding, then narrowed. Harry turned and whispered, "Can't we just get the Room to create replicas of different places?"

Hermione smiled and reached underneath the table to give her boyfriend's thigh a firm squeeze.

"Might be more exciting if there's a real risk of getting caught with our pants down elsewhere in the castle…don't you think?" she whispered.

Harry's eyes went wide and he blushed.

Hermione gave his thigh another squeeze and then leaned back in her chair sporting a look of extreme satisfaction.

Ginny scowled at this. "Care to share, Granger?"

Hermione eyes sparkled with her sweet knife-stabbing reply. "Oh, I don't mind sharing at all, so long as it's the right witch. Just ask Susan."

The Bones heiress blushed. Ginny frowned.

"Can you share with me too?" asked Romilda Vane.

"No."

"Oh, poo."

"Hey, that's my line!" Luna shouted from across the hall.

The arrival of the morning's mail kept any other witches (and the odd wizard) from asking the same question. Those who subscribed to The Daily Prophet skimmed the front page looking for the latest gossip…until they realized there was something more interesting to watch and joined those who were very curious about the second thick envelope of the morning to be delivered into Harry Potter's hands.

Susan blushed deeply and held her face in her hands when she recognized the handwriting on the front of the envelope.

Harry turned towards Hermione, who could only give him a shrug. He then looked across the hall towards Lisa and Daphne, who both discretely did the same.

"Sue?" he asked, turning to his fake girlfriend. "Is this what I think it is?"

"Probably," she muttered through her hands. "I'm just surprised it took Auntie this long."

Harry nodded, turned the envelope over, and very carefully broke the wax seal marked with the crest of House Bones. Then he puffed the envelope open, and turned it upside down.

"Can't be," he said cheekily. "No pictures."

He was loudly scolded in stereo, as others in the Great Hall reached their own conclusions.

Harry looked up towards the Head Table, then swore under his breath…his antics had kept him from making a clean getaway.

"Harry, my boy," the Headmaster called, as he strode towards the Gryffindor table. "Best that I take a look at that envelope."

The raven-haired wizard's eyes narrowed.

"Why do you think that…Sir?"

"Dark days, my boy…can't be too careful about what is sent through the mail."

Harry snorted, and shook his head dismissively.

"Susan, do you recognize this?" he asked, holding the back of the envelope towards the Hufflepuff.

"It's the seal of the House of Bones," she stated tersely.

Her pretend boyfriend nodded. "Headmaster, do you have any reason to believe that the House of Bones would wish the House of Potter harm?"

"Of course not, my boy…but if someone were to steal the associated signet ring…"

"They would literally have to pry it from my Auntie's cold, dead hand," Susan stated. "Should I be concerned, Headmaster? Perhaps we could use your floo connection and check on her well being?"

"No, no…no need to bother your Aunt Amelia," Dumbledore replied quickly. "I'm sure that she is fine. I was just trying to look out for your friend's best interests."

The teenage wizard let out a deep breath.

Susan's back stiffened, and in a formal tone of voice said, "House Bones and House Potter appreciate your concerns, Headmaster, and will keep them in mind."

Dumbledore was taken aback.

"You speak on behalf of House Potter then, Miss Bones?" he asked.

Harry snorted, and made of show of looking inside of the still-full envelope. "Perhaps sooner than you might think, Headmaster," he said cheekily. Then he stood, and turned to Susan. "Milady, shall we?" he asked, holding out his hand.

Susan grinned, standing up just so that she could curtsy. "Yes, Milord."

Harry then tucked the envelope under his arm and turned to Hermione. "My other lady, shall we?"

She giggled, and with took the offered hand with all of the feigned pomposity she could summon.

**oo00OO00oo**

With a full schedule of classes that morning, there wasn't much time for Harry and his girls to do much more than compose a very brief letter to Susan's Aunt that contained far more questions than answers. Dobby was willing and able to deliver that letter and inform the Head of the DMLE that he would return later that afternoon to pick up any responses that she might wish to send via "FedDobby" (_when it absolutely, positively has to get there sealed tight_).

The House Elf might have stayed and waited for a reply but was needed back at Hogwarts to help put on a show. Because, following the maxim that "The show must go on", that afternoon's matinee performance did take place and was given in one of the Hufflepuff's witches' lavatories. As predicted, Susan was the lead actress, while Lisa hid under Harry's cloak and guarded the shower room door. Dobby made Hermione invisible, allowing her to stand by Harry and Susan and provide both stage directions and a helping hand (whenever it was needed to keep bits from bumping).

Myrtle would have given the performance two thumbs up, had those ghostly digits not already been hard at work. Daphne wasn't in attendance (or on stage, for that matter). Harry noticed this fact but, again, wasn't about to potentially mess something up by asking about her absence.

That afternoon, Dobby traveled to London and returned with two letters from Amelia Bones, one to her niece and a second to Harry. The letter to Susan was, in large part, apology; Amelia had sent two separate letters to her niece before sending the official marriage proposal to Harry and they had apparently been intercepted in a manner that nobody would dare try with official documents sent between Family Heads. The letter to Harry tried to answer his questions as best as Amelia could with the time available to her. This prompted Harry to write a second letter (with help) that Dobby delivered to Ted Tonks, asking whether he and his magical law firm would like to serve as House Potter's legal team.

Roles were supposed to be reversed later that evening, with Lisa introducing Harry to the Ravenclaw witches' showers while Susan stood guard. But, following another maxim about business before pleasure, a meeting was first held in the Room of Requirement to discuss the two betrothal contracts that Harry now held in his hand.

Both proposals were reviewed with fine-toothed combs, and, while Hermione held that comb, Daphne and Susan knew enough about wizarding world laws and contracts to guide her hand.

That both contracts used the same format and employed the same boilerplate language kept the number of questions and issues to research down to three feet of Hermione's parchment rather than six. That Daphne wasn't the Greengrass scion made her contract slightly less-specific; she could become Harry's first and only wife. But while her parents were hoping that this be the case, contractual allowances had to be made that allowed for multiple wives, allowances that respected the traditions of the wizarding world, the family history of the Ancient and Noble House of Greengrass, and Harry's place within it as future Head of an even more prestigious _Most_ Ancient and Noble House of Potter.

Harry focused on a few key sections of text. The first point of interest involved deadlines. There was contract-specific language regarding the execution of both documents. Susan's proposal mandated that she be wed some time prior to her twenty-first birthday, and not more than ninety days following her fiance's marriage to his primary wife. Daphne's contract just mandated its execution within ninety days of the twenty-first birthday of herself or her fiance, whichever was latest.

The legal protections provided to each party during the engagement phase of the relationship were also critical in Harry's eyes. To sum it up, the witch was considered part of the wizard's house and fell under that house's protection just as soon as the contract was signed. Any insult, slur, or attack made upon that witch could be considered an insult, slur or attack upon the wizard and his house, and it was a very risky proposition for anyone to risk insulting the Head of a Most Ancient and Noble House. A duel to the death was one sanctioned method of satisfying honor, should the insult prove baseless, as were blood feuds if the insult was severe enough. The financial penalties could be ruinous and the loss of social status permanent (or as permanent as twelve generations' time could be).

Needless to say, pureblood children learned at a very young age not to mess with those under the protection of a Most Ancient and Noble House. It was also needless to say that Muggleborn and Muggle-raised children were taught nothing on this topic. This wasn't a mistake; ignorance of the wizarding world's laws and traditions was not an excuse and, over the centuries, too many Muggleborns had found themselves indentured or even enslaved for the slightest of insults to a very special few.

Harry was one of those special few but hadn't known it until Daphne said that it was so. This also wasn't a mistake. Sirius had assumed that Dumbledore had taught his godson these things but Dumbledore didn't want to keep Harry from "enjoying" his childhood, nor did he want him to keep from losing focus from the path that the Headmaster had established for him from an early age.

Allowances were made for Harry to curse and swear at the Headmaster for a few minutes. Rubs on the back and kisses on the cheek from several different sources eventually calmed him down enough to focus on the escape clauses within each document. There were no magical divorces, but engagements could be broken for a very steep price…two hundred thousand Galleons, or the magic of the witch or wizard wishing to break the contract. Non-negotiable and no give-backs (but lots of giving…the Ministry would claim half of this payment as an "administrative penalty").

Daphne and Susan knew enough about marriage contracts to say that this contract clause was standard, if seldom-used. There were very few families within Wizarding Britain who had the financial means to break a marriage contract and even fewer families who would consider "wasting" that kind of money on a daughter even if they did.

Given what Harry knew to be in his vault, he doubted that he'd have the means for this to be a viable option for one contract, much less two. Daphne expressed surprise, saying that she'd always heard that House Potter was not only Most ancient, but most wealthy as well.

Harry had always wondered if there was more to his name than his trust vault but had never really had a serious reason to find out the answer. He had never had much of an opportunity to ask the right question to the right goblins (again, thanks to the Headmaster's desire not to have him worry about the responsibilities attendant to wealth). But now that he did, Harry knew that four hundred thousand Galleons was a lot of money and was quite vocal in stating that it would be worth it, so long as his friends were protected and he could still marry for love.

That attitude, once expressed, earned Harry several more kisses and rubs, and led to a much earlier performance then Myrtle had expected. The show had an improvised script and an expanded cast of five characters (though Daphne did little more than watch and rub alongside the ghost). The setting was new as well… the Room's version of Trafalgar Square Fountain, allowing for a fantasy that Hermione was in great need of fulfilling.

Neither Daphne nor Myrtle could tell for certain whether other fantasies were fulfilled that evening. If they weren't then Harry and the witches were damn good actors. Not that they cared either way, since the scene, even if staged, was still inspiring and shagadelic.

**oo00OO00oo**

When Daphne Greengrass woke from an intensely erotic dream the following morning, she tensed up, but then relaxed…realizing that the length of flesh pressing against her naked body was far more penis than python.

A feminine voice from behind wished her a good morning.

She replied in kind, then smiled as she remembered the events of the previous night. Those thoughts caused her to press back against the wizard who was spooning against her, and wiggle.

"Careful, there, sweetheart," Hermione whispered, slipping her hand in between the most explicit point of contact. "Wouldn't want anything to slip, and potentially void your family's proposal."

"Unicorns don't care about anal sex," Daphne teased.

"But primary girlfriends do," Hermione whispered back.

The wizard filling to their sandwich took in a loud breath and expelled it in a quasi-snore.

Daphne waited a few moments to ensure Harry was still sleeping, then asked, "So you're okay if Harry signs the contract?"

"Are you okay knowing that he'll be doing it with plans to enact the escape clause? Okay knowing that I would still come first? Or that he's still not going to cum inside you?"

"Not even a buggering?"

"Me first."

Daphne smiled, rubbed her bum against the back of Hermione's hand. "That implies that there would be a second, though…doesn't it? Maybe a third?"

"First things first."

"I've got lube, if it would help."

"You know what I mean."

Daphne sighed, and nodded her head.

"So…what's today's performance schedule?"

"What time is it?"

Daphne pulled a wand from underneath the pillow she was using and cast a _Tempus_ spell.

"Six."

"Parvati and Lavender are probably still asleep," Hermione whispered. "Want to help Harry and me break in my Gryff shower room?"

"So I get to move out of the audience and onto the stage?"

"I was thinking that you'd be a lookout."

"Darn. Just the three of us, then? No Susan or Lisa?"

"Disappointed about that as well?"

"No."

"There'd be Myrtle, of course."

Daphne snorted. "How could I forget her? She is a rather demanding audience, isn't she?"

"She's not so bad," Hermione replied. "And it will be worth it once she comes through for us."

"Or just cums?"

"She hopes," Hermione giggled. "Dobby?"

The House Elf popped into view, sitting on the top of Harry's headboard.

"Yes, Missus Harry Potter Sir's Firstus and Fourthus?" he loudly whispered.

"Fourthus?" Daphne whispered.

"Never mind," Hermione hissed.

Dobby was then sent on a scouting mission. Once he reported the targeted shower room clear, he spirited Daphne there.

Hermione gave Harry a squeeze once they were alone in bed.

"You can stop pretending, now."

Harry opened his eyes and smiled. "Did my Firstus say something?"

"You were awake the whole time, weren't you?"

"I'd think you'd be insulted if I hadn't woken once you grabbed hold of my willie."

"You ready to go, then?"

Harry rolled over and rolled onto his girlfriend.

"I'm always ready to go," he smiled, thrusting his hips forward.

"Save it for the show, Mister."

"Yes, Dear."

**oo00OO00oo**

Susan was a little upset about the morning's performance...not so much over the fact that she hadn't been given a role, but that it had taken place at all. She knew Hermione's plans, and agreed with them, but argued that they shouldn't risk a Hogsmeade visit-negating detention by getting caught out with pants down. She noted that the Room was still available…they just had to pull Myrtle away from the telly and the naughty pictures that she was viewing one after the other. And if that took giving her a live performance instead, well…maybe the Room could recreate a beach, or a waterfall, or the Roman baths in Bath?

The others found merit in her arguments, and took them up. That afternoon the Room helped the teens discover just how good beach sand was at getting into the wrong nooks and crannies. So they ditched a natural setting for their evening performance.

Hermione asked the Room for a Muggle backyard pool, which it provided, complete with diving board, slide, and cabana. When Harry saw the Muggle grill sitting on the deck, he asked Dobby to fetch some steaks and sausages from the kitchens, and suggested to the girls that they turn the opportunity into a pool party. They loved the idea, but insisted that they have control over the guest list. Harry agreed, but only if he had control over the swim costumes.

He had to describe what he had in mind before they agreed. This involved convincing Hermione to play along with his assertion that thong bikinis were standard kit in the Muggle world. She would only do that if Harry went along with the assertion that thongs were commonly worn by both female _and_ male Muggles. And he only agreed to that (and to wearing a thong himself) after he saw their proposed guest list…a female-only guest list.

And this was how the first "Harem-pool-ooza" came together. Harry and his foursome of witches were joined by Luna, the three Gryff Chasers, Tracy Davis and Hannah Abbott. The last two were there as Daphne's and Susan's close friends, and weren't planning on applying for harem membership. That didn't keep them from wearing the "official" harem swim costume, though…much to Harry's enjoyment.

Myrtle enjoyed herself as well, even if there weren't any explicit scenes during the pool party proper. From her perch on a toilet hidden behind some foliage, she watched as the witches all flirted with Harry …and more than a few with each other. She watched the "chicken fights," where every witch had a chance to get Harry's head between their legs, and nearly every witch accidentally on-purpose experienced some kind of wardrobe malfunction. And she really enjoyed the game of spin-the-bottle, where there were far more snogs than kisses, and no re-spins allowed when a witch's spin pointed towards another witch.

Tracy and Hannah were shocked at the idea of kissing another witch, but weren't about to pass up what they figured would be their only chance to snog The-Boy-Who-Lived. And Myrtle wasn't the only one getting excited by all of this play. Harry was hard most of the night, and stretched the front of his thong out significantly. He kept reminding Hermione that there was supposed to be a hard-core performance for Myrtle, and she kept telling him "later". Luna and the Chasers all expressed their willingness to audition for "roles," even if that meant spending time on Hermione's casting couch.

Harry liked the idea of watching those kinds of auditions, but kept his mouth shut. Hermione was almost willing to admit to herself that she might really enjoy that audition process, but kept her mouth shut. She bought herself enough time to process her thoughts by promising Luna and the three older Gryffindors that they might have roles to play within a few days, depending on when their Potions Professor sat for a "final" performance.

At the end of the night the guests agreed that it was terrific success, and insisted that there be a **"Harem pool-ooza 2"** in the very near future. And some of the randy suggestions about naughtier pool games and skimpier swim costumes made Harry just as eager to see that take place.

Once the guests left the Room, Myrtle finally got her MA-rated performance to perv on. Daphne was given a much bigger role, and put on a command performance as part of a five-person daisy chain in the shallow end of the pool…a naked daisy chain that involved a lot more than rinsing hair. The ghost was finding it increasingly more difficult to decide what was real and what was staged, and the performers weren't saying one way or the other.

Dobby's final tasks of that very long day involved bring the fivesome back to their beds. He only needed to make three trips, since Daphne and Hermione were considering Harry's bed to be theirs as well.

The raven-haired wizard was once again the meat in their sandwich, but this time he spooned against Hermione, rather than Daphne. So it was Daphne's job to place her hand in between a very intimate point of contact, so that Harry didn't inadvertently slip, and cross number thirteen off of their list before they were ready. Harry pretended to stay asleep when Daphne cupped his crotch with her hand. Hermione pretended to think that Harry was asleep, and wasn't shy about pushing back against Daphne's hand (just as the Slytherin had that morning).

And they all fell into dreamland with smiles on their faces, because all was abso-fucking-lutely well that night.


	15. Chapter 15

**The Python Defense**  
A bawdy and slightly disturbing H/Hr crack fic by canoncansodoff

**A/N**: Spam, spam, spam, spam...Crack, crack, crack, crack.

Sorry for the prolonged absence from my little ficdom. So many WIPs to think about, and so little time…muse pointed me back towards Python Defense, rationalizing that I was far closer to wrapping up this WIP than the more recent start-ups. But only after she got me all revved up and fleshing-out a few _new_ story ideas, mind you.

**Disclaimer:** Not my characters, no money being made, etc., etc.

**oo00OO00oo**

**Chapter 15: When Dark Lords Visit Dreamscapes**

**oo00OO00oo**

When normal people want a few more minutes of rest, they reach out and slap the snooze button on their alarm clocks.

Voldemort preferred to slap his alarm clock with a _Cruciatus_.

The Dark Lord held true to form, holding the curse for a few seconds longer than normal before allowing his follower to crawl off towards recovery.

It sucked to be the Death Eater who drew this particular short straw.

"Where's my tea!"

The Death Eater who had drawn the second shortest straw struggled to keep his hand from shaking as he stepped up to Voldemort's bed and poured a cup of steaming hot tea from a bedside tray. He held his breath as he carefully measured out exactly two teaspoons of sugar, then tried to pour just the right amount of milk.

He was betrayed by an unsteady hand. Voldemort propped himself up in bed, rested his back against the headboard, and took a sip.

"Too much milk…._Crucio!"_

The Dark Lord was not a morning person. But since it was he and he alone who had a connection with The-Boy-Who-Lived, this wasn't a task that he could delegate to a minion.

Voldemort mentally recounted the state of things as he conjured a second cup to replace the one that he'd just hurled against the wall. He had just returned from a two-week long recruiting effort on the Continent…a successful trip, but an effort that had also kept him from maintaining his low-boil long-term assault on the Potter brat's brain.

With Snape's help he had made slow but steady progress over the past few months. Each foray across the mental connection brought him closer to his goal…closer to getting Potter's brain mushy enough to manipulate him into retrieving the full Prophecy. But this program came at a cost…the cost of a good night's sleep and an effin' 4:30am wake-up call.

The boy's mental defenses were always weakest just before the dawn. The odds that the boy would remember any false dreams or other suggestions were always greatest just before the dawn. And so he, Voldemort, had to be awake just before the dawn.

**oo00OO00oo**

That there wasn't very much difference between Daphne's smutty dreams and her smutty early morning reality made it that much harder for the blonde-haired witch to recognize that she had transitioned into consciousness.

They were in Harry's bed, and spooning under his covers. Her breasts were pressed lightly against his back, and her knees nuzzled against the back of his bared thighs. He, in turn, was spooning against Hermione Granger's back. Or at least he had started out the night that way… during the night the bushy-haired witch had flipped over, as she was now snuggling chest-to-chest against her boyfriend. And at some point after that , Hermione had managed to trap Daphne's hand high-up in between her thighs…high enough to be intimate.

Harry's bits had also found a warm place to rest during the night; nestled in the tight space between Daphne's wrist and Hermione's lower belly. There wasn't any obvious grinding or rubbing going on, but there was friction created when any of the three of them moved. And there was tactile evidence that _both_ Harry and Hermione had physically responded to that friction.

Daphne wondered if she could pull her hand free without disturbing the other two. She also considered leaving her hand in place, and drifting back to sleep. But she quickly realized that this wouldn't work...the innocent (but highly intimate) points of contact had her brain fully awake, and queuing up a whole series of questions to consider. For example, what did it mean that Daphne hadn't instantly been repelled at the thought of where her thumb knuckle was presently nestled? How should she react if Hermione had intentionally trapped Daphne's hand? How would Harry react?

Daphne stifled a snort in answer to that last one…Harry's reaction couldn't be any firmer or more erect than it already was.

The Slytherin witch really was curious about how Hermione would react, so she decided to let the scene play out a bit longer. Leaving her hand where it rested, she snuggled against the warmth of Harry's back, and anxiously waited to see what happened next.

**oo00OO00oo**

It was hard for even for a Dark Lord to get a decent cup of tea on the Continent, which is why Voldemort had taken the time to finish off a second cup of Earl Gray before messing with Harry Potter's mind.

"Robe me!" he commanded, as he swung his legs off the bed.

The minion who hadn't drawn the short straw and served as Voldemort's alarm clock was quick to offer him a robe charmed warm, then scurried away. The Dark Lord lightly knotted the night robe's sash, sat down on the edge of his bed, and mentally launched himself towards Harry Potter's mindscape.

He landed on a dirt path within a dark forest. The thicket that arched over his head formed a massive interwoven canopy that blocked out the sky. Momentarily disoriented, Voldemort looked around and muttered, "What kind of fucking tuition has Snape been providing the boy?"

The way forward was dark…much darker than the than the other direction, which appeared to open up in the far distance. But the Dark Lord knew instinctively that this easier path led away from Potter's head. He knew which way led to the boy's dreams and memories, and began to walk with wand drawn towards the more dangerous direction.

Each step magnified the worrisome signals that assaulted his senses.

The tree trunks and limbs were gnarled…almost curly, and unnaturally black.

The air was hot and intensely humid.

The path was wet and slippery.

The wind smelt of fish, and carried the low-pitched moans of a woman who was either presently experience pain…or anticipating intense pleasure.

The Dark Lord experienced a rare feeling of…foreboding.

"Oh, bugger!"

Whomever had been moaning switched over to hearty laughter that caused the path to tremble and shake.

"You're on the wrong path for that, Luv," the voice stated.

"Right…too silly!" Voldemort declared, as he began to cleared back the overgrowth with a series of cutting spells.

The ground shook in synch with a low-pitched feminine chuckle.

"Didn't anyone teach you the depilatory charm?" the voice asked.

**oo00OO00oo**

Growing impatient, and wondering if either of her two bedmates were feigning sleep, Daphne pushed herself up onto a propped elbow and glanced over Harry's shoulder. The thin smile that she spotted on Hermione's face disappeared when the shift in body weight woke the Muggleborn, and she opened her eyes.

"Gah!"

"Ssshh!"

"Sorry…Didn't mean to…"

"Of course not," Daphne replied, sporting a sly smile on her face.

Hermione lifted her leg and said, "You can have your hand back."

"No…stay still," Daphne replied. "Let the sleeping sandwich finish off his wet dream."

"You think he's really still asleep?"

"Dunno…were you?"

"Erm…good point."

Daphne smiled when she noticed that Hermione hadn't answered the question.

"And don't mind me if you want to fall back asleep this way," she whispered.

"You want me to keep your hand in between my…?"

Daphne shrugged as she waited for Hermione's decision. When the bushy-haired witch failed to reply (either physically or verbally), the blonde-haired teen gently pulled her hand free from the Muggleborn's thighs. The wizard sleeping in between them let out a low-pitched growl as protest to this shift in position. When Daphne responded by grabbing his bits, Harry's growl shifted towards a far more satisfied-sounding pitch.

"What are you doing?" Hermione whispered.

"Going back to sleep?" Daphne mumbled, dropping her head back down to her pillow.

"Before or after you help my boyfriend get off?"

"This is how we fell asleep, isn't it?"

"Not quite."

"So roll over then."

Hermione paused to consider her response. Daphne was being more than a little disingenuous. There was a big difference between covering Harry's bits with her hand and wrapping her fingers around his erection. And instead of keeping her hand still, Daphne was now using the tip of that erection to slowly rub a small circle against Hermione's lower belly.

But did Hermione really mind?

Making a decision, the bushy-haired witch snuggled close against her boyfriend's chest and trapped Daphne's hand in place. She then reached over Harry's hip, and allowed her own hand to become trapped in between Daphne's bits and her boyfriend's bum.

"This works for me," Hermione announced.

Daphne snorted, closed her eyes, and replied, "Me too."

**oo00OO00oo**

The proverbial light at the end of the tunnel drove Voldemort's avatar forward. He slashed and shaved his way towards Potter's thoughts and dreams, only to find himself standing in front of a heavy iron-reinforced doorway that was protected by ten scantily-dressed witches. Each bare-chested guardian was dressed in the same two-piece outfit…a brightly-colored thong, and a steel-plated helmet. The helmets all had full visors, and were decorated with horns and antlers.

In the center stood a witch whose bushy-brown hair spilled out from a helmet that was adorned with a set of ridiculously long caribou antlers. She stared straight into Voldemort's eyes, pointed a long sword towards him, and yelled.

"Nee!"

The single syllable flew through the air and struck the Dark Lord hard in the chest.

"Ooof!"

"Nee! Nee! Nee!" the other knights yelled as they waved their swords.

"Who are you?" demanded Voldemort.

"We are the Knights Who Say…Nee!"

"Who?"

"We are the keepers of the sacred words: Nee, Pen, and Nee-wom!"

"Nee-wom!" echoed a random witch.

"Those who hear us say these sacred words seldom live to tell the tale!" the bushy-haired witch exclaimed. "The Knights Who Say Nee demand a sacrifice!"

"Not bloodly likely," Voldemort sneered.

"Nee!" "Nee!" Nee!"

For some unknown reason, these words hurt like a bitch.

**oo00OO00oo**

When Hermione was woken by another shift in bodyweight, she managed to keep her eyes closed and stifled her gasp, which allowed her to silently assess the situation.

It felt like Daphne had pulled away from spooning against Harry, and was now lying on her stomach, face down on her pillow. Her one hand still had a firm grip on Harry's erection. But the other hand?

Hermione blushed as she correctly interpreted the faint sounds of scratchy rhythmic rubbing.

It wasn't the first time that she had heard these kinds of noises late at night…her roommates either never learned to silence their bed curtains, or didn't think it worth the bother. One time Hermione had listened in as Parvati and Lavender rubbed off at the same behind their respective bed curtains . But what did it mean that she wasn't repelled at the thought of Daphne masturbating right next to her, in the same bed? She had spotted Daphne trying to discretely rub one off during one of the performances for Myrtle. But this was for real…and within reach…

And (if she were honest with herself) incredibly hot.

Hermione had a range of response options before her. As an exploratory step, the bushy-haired witch released her hold on Harry's bum, and reached down to cover the Slytherin's hold on Harry's bits.

Daphne froze.

"Hermione?"

"Here, let me help you."

"You want to…erm, you think I was trying to give your boyfriend a hand job?"

"No."

"Help me how, then?"

"Well, you are right-handed, aren't you?"

"Erm…yes?"

The Muggleborn giggled as she gently pushed Daphne's fingers off of their hand hold. "Then let me take care of my boyfriend's needs...that will free up your more practiced hand to take care of your own…dreaming."

"I wasn't…if you think that I was…"

"Daphne," Hermione chided.

"I wasn't!"

"Would it be easier for you if took care of my dreams at the same time?"

"What?"

"You know what I'm talking about."

Daphne giggled. "No, I think I really need you to explain…in _explicit _detail."

"Don't think I'm ready to go that far."

"What? You aren't ready to…after all you've done in front of Myrtle…after what we've been doing…?"

"Oh, never mind," Hermione whispered.

"Okay, okay…I get it!" Daphne replied. She rolled up onto her side, scooted against Harry's back, and cautiously restarted her auto-erotic rhythm.

The Slytherin waited until she heard Hermione's own rhythmic rubbing before adopting a more aggressive and satisfying beat.

**oo00OO00oo**

Two insistent questions were on Voldemort's mind as his avatar gathered its "breath" a safe distance away from The Knights Who Say Nee.

How had the boy's developed these complex Occlumency barriers in such a short time?

And what in Merlin's name was a shrubbery?

Voldemort had carried the same pseudo-dream into Potter's head a dozen times before without any problems. There had been hints of push back in the most recent trips, but nothing that the Dark Lord couldn't easily bypass without detection. Now, given the barrier strength and these sentinels, stealth seemed unlikely. He was confident that he could push through these barriers, but not without openly announcing his presence and waking the boy.

Voldemort could have retreated back down the link, and learned more about these barriers from Snape. But You-Know-Who was an impatient magical construct who didn't want to lose any more sleep than was necessary. He was also a pissed-off magical construct that wanted Potter to pay for the massive headache that he had developed. So Voldemort traveled back to the doorway and its nubile guardians.

The leader of this group was just starting to explain that they were no longer named The Knights Who Say Nee when the Dark Lord cast the mindscape version of Fiendfyre.

"Here's your fucking shrubbery!" he hissed.

The helmeted witches shielded both themselves and the door as best they could, but they were no match for Voldemort's brute force strength. They folded within seconds, which allowed Voldemort to walk into the middle of something that was completely different….

**oo00OO00oo**

_Harry breaks his head above water after a swim and emerges from the pool. Naked!Daphne is right in front of him, lying spread-legged on a lounge chair. She waves him closer. He does, and then he bends down and begins playing with the Slytherin's breasts. Harry is then spun around by Naked!Hermione, who pushes him back into Daphne's willing embrace, then bends down and begins to suck him off. Naked!Susan appears on one side of Harry and begins to snog Daphne. When he reaches up and begins fingering the Hufflepuff, she reaches down and begins fingering the Slytherin. _

_His attention is pulled towards his left, where Naked!Luna is kneeling by the lounge chair and fondling Hermione's breasts with one hand, and his testicles with the other. Harry reaches out and pulls the blonde-haired witch in for a kiss, then reaches down and begins to play with her bits. The snog is broken off when Harry spots a huge penis looming towards his face…but it's only Naked!Lisa and her strap-on dildo. She nods towards Susan, and states that, "Fair-is-fair." When his bushy-haired girlfriend breaks off suction long enough to look up and agree, Lisa walks behind Hermione, grabs her hips, and begins thrusting into her from behind. Hermione lets out a deep-throated moan as Lisa shags her…and everyone is sweating, and moaning, and wiggling…and naked versions of Tracy Davis and Hannah Abbott have joined the masturbating chorus of naked witches who are off to one side, chanting, 'Harem! Harem! Harem!'…._

And then the walls fell down, and Voldemort walked into Harry Potter's wet dream.

Harry broke away from Luna's snog, and turned to face the Dark Lord.

"Oh, Shit!" he hissed.

"Mind if I join you?" asked Voldemort.

"No!" Harry yelled.

The dreaming wizard pulled his hands free and thrust them towards the unwelcomed guest. Thick sticky strands of white string shot out from his wrists, and wove themselves into a hastily-constructed barrier. There was no comparable spell that could do this in real life…inspiration was drawn from a comic book, rather than a spell book. But such were the advantages provided a teen-aged wizard who was hell-bent on defending his girls... whether it was in real life, or within his dreamscape.

**oo00OO00oo**

Daphne and Hermione were so focused on keeping their respective rhythms going that they didn't notice when the smile that had been on Harry's face disappeared.

It was the clearly voiced _"Oh, shit!"_ that finally caught their attention.

"Harry?" Hermione asked, pulling back from their embrace.

"_No!"_ he hissed, fighting to hold his girlfriend tight within his arms.

Daphne sat up and asked, "What's wrong?"

The teen-aged wizard's eyes remained firmly shut as he shook his head.

"_Go away!"_ he muttered.

"You want us to go?" Hermione asked, trying once more to break free.

"_No!"_

Daphne shook her head. "Hermione, what's…?"

"_Fuck off, Tom!"_Harry hissed loudly.

"Oh, shit, his scar is starting to bleed," Hermione moaned. She grabbed her boyfriend's shoulder and gently shook it. "Wake up Harry…it's just a bad dream."

"_They're mine!" _Harry declared, groping Hermione's breasts.

"So is it a wet dream or a nightmare?" Daphne asked.

"Could be both, given his luck," Hermione replied.

The two witches continued to try to wake Harry up, but without success. The seriousness of the situation became all too clear when his one-sided dialogue began to be punctuated by clenched-teethed hisses of pain.

"Should we get the Headmaster? Or get him to the Infirmary?" asked Daphne.

"And explain why we're here naked in Harry's bed?"

"Are you worried about your modesty or your boyfriend?"

"Harry, of course!"

"_**No!" **_that boyfriend hissed, still in obvious pain. _"Stay here…with me….with me…I can…we can…drive him out…"_

"Are you awake, Harry?"

"_It's hurting him…"_

"What's hurting him, Harry?"

"_The feelings…your hands…skin… love…sex…aaaaargh!"_

"I'm right here, Harry…we're right here…."

"What the fuck is going on?" Daphne demanded.

"Harry's got a mental connection with Voldemort," Hermione hissed.

"Seriously?"

"He's been having visions…some kind of mental link…"

"So what do we do?"

"_Hug me…"_

Hermione threw back the blankets and said, "You heard the man…sit up against the headboard."

"While you…"

"Just do it, damn it!" Hermione hissed. "You hug his back while I hug his front."

"But why don't we just lie down and spoon…."

"Because it's easier for me to ride his willie while I'm sitting up!"

"Erm…right," Daphne replied, scooting to the head of the bed. Once there, she turned and opened both arms and legs wide.

Hermione nodded in satisfaction as she pushed Harry backwards into Daphne's arms. The Slytherin witch pulled him tight against her breasts, and pressed the inside of her thighs against the outside of his legs.

"_Yes!"_ Harry hissed, as Hermione straddled his front and tightened the three-way embrace by wrapping her arms around Daphne's back.

"_Love you, 'Mione…"_

"I love you too, Harry."

"_Love all of you…"_

"We…we all love you, Harry…right Daphne?"

"That's right, Harry."

"_Love me,"_ pleaded Harry. _"Helps the pain…hurting him…love me…"_

"Yes, Harry…we love you…eep!"

"_Love me!"_ he commanded, giving Hermione's arse a hard squeeze.

It was Daphne's turn to gasp when Harry's other hand reached back found her fanny.

"_Love me!"_

"I think he's talking about the shagging kind of love," Daphne hissed, as Harry's fingers slipped inside her.

"Obviously."

"You two always play these kind of kinky role playing games?"

"Wish it was only a game."

"So what do we…"

"Whatever it takes," Hermione replied, as she reached down in between her legs and lined herself up.

"_Yes!"_

Daphne didn't need to be told twice. One hand slipped in between the lovers' chests, while the other aimed towards a lower point of intimate contact. She pressed her lips against Harry's ear, and offered him encouragements and endearments in between kisses and nibbles.

When the Slytherin witch was driven over the top, she cried out in pleasure. Harry cried out in triumph. When Hermione found release, the sensations were so intense that she fell off of her perch. Her half-awake boyfriend cheered even louder, even before Daphne reached around, took him in hand, and picked up Hermione's pace.

But when the point of Harry's release came a few moments later, his eyes jerked opened, a primal scream burst out of his mouth, and a spray of blood and black ooze burst spontaneously from his scar.

"_**Aaaaaaaaaah!" **_

The shout was loud enough to overwhelm the silencing spells that Hermione and Daphne had overlapped on Harry's bed curtains the night before. It was also loud enough to cause Dobby to appear, and to display his own dominant take-charge attitude when it came to the health and welfare of his Harry Potter.

The house elf momentarily forgot that Air Dobby was only supposed to have a two-passenger capacity, and immediately transported all three naked teen-agers off to Madame Pomfrey…all at once, and all entwined. Which made for quite a surprise all-around, given that the Hogwarts Matron was still sleeping in her own bed.

**oo00OO00oo**

When the toe-curling scream woke Dean Thomas, he pulled back his curtains, and rushed towards Harry's bed. Neville and Seamus were barely a step behind.

Ron muttered in his sleep about the noise, rolled over, and pulled a pillow over his head.

When Dean pulled back Harry's bed curtains and spotted an empty bed and blood-sprayed linens, he rushed out the door towards their Head of House's quarters. Neville and Seamus were barely a step behind… until they reached the Gryffindor common room and Neville thought to notify Hermione. So he tried (without thinking) to run up the stairs to the girls's dormitory, and ended up waking everybody in the Tower when he tripped the alarm.

Everybody except half-asleep Ron, who responded by squeezing the pillow more tightly against his head.

Neville's mistake did prove useful, though. With students spilling (or sliding) out of both the boys and girls dormitories, it didn't take him very long to ascertain that neither Harry nor Hermione were presently within the Tower. He reported these facts to his Head of House when she strode into the Common Room dressed in a tartan night robe. She responded by rushing up to Neville's room, and inspecting Harry's bed for herself. What she saw was so frightening that she rushed out of the boys' dormitory and through the portal. Once outside the entrance, The Fat Lady informed McGonagall that nobody had recently entered or exited the Tower. The Transfiguration Professor gasped, and ran down the hallway, heading towards Hufflepuff House. In her rush to find Harry, she forgot to turn off the alarm and reset the stairs leading up to the girls's dormitory.

Not that it really mattered…when Seamus told everyone what had happened, and described just how much blood he had sprayed against the insides of the bed curtains, all but the youngest of students immediately thought back to the Irish teen-ager's third year, when the Fat Lady had been slashed and Sirius Black had attacked their House. Fearing something similar, they all ran out of the portal and down the Tower's stairs, making a bee-line towards the Great Hall.

Except for Ron, of course, who slept through it all.

**oo00OO00oo**

Susan Bones was abruptly pulled from her own naughty dreams involving pool parties and naked witches when bed curtains were thrown wide open and her shoulder was firmly shaken.

"Susan!"

"Hey!" the witch protested, turning away from the invading bright light.

"Where is he?" Pomona Sprout demanded, as she reached across the teen-ager's body and patted the blankets.

"Who?"

"You know who."

"Why would I know where Voldemort is?"

"Not him," snapped McGonagall, who was by the other Head's side. "Your boyfriend, Harry Potter."

"Oh, him. Erm…did you check his dormitory?"

"What's going on?" Hannah asked, popping her head out from her own bed curtains.

"They're looking for my boyfriend," Susan replied. Suddenly realizing why this might be more dangerous than potentially embarrassing, the pig-tailed witch sat up and asked, "What's wrong? Why are you looking for Harry?"

"He's gone missing," McGonagall replied, shaking her head at the sight of the teen-aged witches bare breasts. "Roommates heard a scream, and there was blood, but he wasn't in bed…"

"Oh, no!" Susan shouted, pushing away her covers and swinging her legs out over the bed. She brushed past Sprout as she reached for the night robe that was draped over the back of her desk chair.

"Susan! Why aren't you wearing any bedclothes?" Pomona demanded.

"Why are you worried about that right now?" the strawberry blonde-haired witch replied, slipping her arms into the robe sleeves. Not bothering to close the front (or cover her bits) she ducked her head underneath her desk. "Where are my slippers….oh, to hell with it….Dobby!"

The named house elf immediately popped to Hufflepuff's side, and said, "Dobby already be taking Suzy Secondus' Mr. Harry Potter Sir to his Poppy's room."

"Was he hurt? Is he okay?"

"His Poppy and Harry Potter, Sir's Firstus and Fourthus be taking good care of Suzy Secondus's boyfriend friend."

"What is all this about?" asked Pomona.

Susan translated, without think of what the translation revealed. "Dobby must have brought Harry from his bed to the Infirmary….what happened to him, Dobby?"

"Mr. Harry Potter Sir be bursting blood and gunk from his lightning boltie."

"Oh, that doesn't sound good," Susan replied, as she tied her robe shut. "Will you take me to him?"

Dobby glanced towards the two Heads of Houses, thought for a moment, then pulled on one of his ears.

"Suzy Secondus be needing help finding her way up to the Inform-itty?" he asked cautiously.

The pig-tailed teen chewed on her lower lip as she considered this cautious response. Pulling her robe front closed, she then said, ""Erm, no thank you, Dobby…I can find my own way there."

The House Elf smiled, and replied, "No be worrying, Missy Secondus…your Harry now be feeling even betterer than before."

Dobby then touched the tip of his nose with a finger and popped away, leaving behind some very confused witches.

Susan turned towards her roommate, and asked, "Hannah…can I borrow your slippers?"

"Erm…sure."

"Thanks."

"Miss Bones…where are you going?" Minerva asked.

"Where do you think?" the teen-ager snarked.

"But it's still curfew hours?"

Susan rolled her eyes just before she dashed out into the dormitory hallway.

"Won't be a problem if you keep up," she called back.

**oo00OO00oo**

When the three witches burst through the infirmary's doors, they found what they had been searching for resting comfortably in his customary hospital bed…with gauze wrapped around his head, and a weak smile on his lips. The Infirmary's Matron and Hermione Granger were standing bedside; the former wearing a night robe, the latter a hospital gown.

"Harry!" Susan cried, as she rushed towards him.

"Sssssh!" Poppy admonished.

The bushy-haired witch standing next to Poppy snorted.

"You've only got the one patient, Ma'am…who is she going to wake up?"

"How about the rest of the castle?" the Matron quipped.

Taking comfort in the tone of this banter, the two Heads of Houses approached the patient's bedside at a far-slower pace than what they had used to follow Susan upstairs.

"Mr. Potter, what in Merlin's name happened to you?" Pomona asked.

Harry shrugged.

"Bad dream?"

Minerva rolled her eyes.

"Perhaps you have a more substantive explanation, Miss Granger?" she asked.

"Why would I…?"

"Are you saying that you weren't somehow involved with…this?" McGonagall asked, gesturing towards Harry's bandaged head. "Don't think that your absence from the Tower wasn't noticed."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," Poppy scoffed. "Without her help he might not have survived at all."

"Might not have survived?" Susan whined. "What happened? Dobby said something about blood bursting from Harry's head…"

Poppy nodded. "It took three bottles of blood-replenishing potions to replace it."

"But what caused the injury?" asked Pomona.

"What indeed?" added Albus Dumbledore, as he walked into the Infirmary dressed in outlandishly garish night clothes.

Harry sighed, and said, "Good morning, Headmaster."

"I certainly hope so, my boy," Dumbledore replied. "I dare say it sounded quite the opposite, from what your housemates were describing in the Great Hall."

"Great Hall?" asked Minerva.

"Indeed, Professor McGonagall," the wizened-old wizard stated. "Almost the entirety of your House is presently gathered in the Great Hall…might you know why?"

"Because they have seen what I have seen with my own eyes?" the elderly witch shot back. "Seen Mr. Potter's blood splattered on the inside of his bed curtains, and remembered when Sirius Black violently visited Gryffindor Tower just two years past?"

The Headmaster favored his subordinate with a grandfatherly nod. He then turned towards Harry, readjusted the placement of his spectacles upon the bridge of his nose, and gave close inspection to the teen-ager's wrapped forehead.

What he _saw_ shocked the centenarian. After a few moments of silence, he asked, "Were you, in fact, attacked, Mr. Potter?"

"Erm…yes?"

"And should we be out searching the halls for this attacker?"

Harry snorted, and gingerly shook his head.

"No, Headmaster…I'm quite certain that the attacker never set foot within the castle."

Dumbledore pursed his lips, and gave the much younger wizard a curt nod.

"And this attacker, it seems, has lost his point of access?"

"Merlin, I hope so," Harry replied.

"Most remarkable!" he muttered.

"Well what I find remarkable is how Mr. Potter found himself here in the Infirmary," said McGonagall. "It was just a few seconds between his roommates hearing him scream and them opening the bed curtains and finding his bed empty."

"It was that house elf, wasn't it?" asked Sprout. "He said that _he _brought Harry to the Infirmary….how is that possible, Headmaster?"

Dumbledore was too busy thinking about horcuxes and mental connections to realize just how plainly and openly he responded to the question.

"With the Headmaster's permission, it is possible for a bound house elf to transport any member of the family that he serves from one part of the castle to another, so long as the trip starts and ends within the ward line."

Hermione and Susan's cheeks both reddened upon hearing this explanation, but for different reasons. Both managed to bite their tongues, however, in consideration of their professorial audience.

Minerva McGonagall felt no need to hold back.

"Albus!" she scolded. "That would mean not only that Mr. Potter has a bound house elf, but that you've given that house elf permission to carry his master from one bed to another!"

"What is that?" Dumbledore asked. "Oh, yes, well…is it true, Mr. Potter?"

"What, Sir?"

"Did Dobby the house elf transport you from Gryffindor Tower to the Infirmary?"

Harry got defensive. "Well it's not like I asked him to."

Madame Pomfrey chimed in, "And I dare say that my patient could have bled out if he hadn't."

"Yes, yes, nobody is accusing either Mr. Potter or his house elf with impropriety," said Dumbledore.

"At least not in _this_ instance," muttered Sprout. She turned towards the Headmaster and asked, "Did you really give this house elf permission to transport Mr. Potter from one bed to another?"

"Certainly not in those specific terms," Dumbledore said defensively. "And I would not be surprised if this is an exceptional instance...that house elf has demonstrated a rather extreme interest in protecting Mr. Potter over the past few years…even when his actions were diametrically opposed to the wishes of his former master."

"Sometimes against mine too," Harry muttered, as he thought about the rogue bludger attack, and the exploding pudding, and the intercepted letters.

Dumbledore unilaterally decided that this discussion thread was much less important that certain others, and forced the issue by casting a _Serpentortia_ spell that conjured a small garter snake onto the top of the teen-ager's blankets.

"Headmaster!" Madame Pomfrey protested.

"Just a brief experiment, Poppy, it's perfectly safe," said Dumbledore. The Headmaster turned towards Harry and asked him to speak with the snake in Parseltongue.

Harry tried to introduce himself to the coiled reptile.

The snake understood Harry's English about as well as Harry could decipher the snake's hisses.

Not at all, in other words.

Dumbledore's face paled.

"We have much to discuss, young man," he stated, as he cancelled out his conjuration.

"Yes, I believe we do, Headmaster."

A million thoughts and plans and revisions to those plans and reconsiderations to those revisions all danced inside Dumbledore's head over the next few seconds, as he considered what he observed (both optically and mentally). Any resolution to this cacophony was lost when the Hogwarts High Inquisitor entered the Infirmary.

"What is going on here?" demanded the pink-robed witch.

McGonagall scowled at Umbridge, and snapped, "We are trying to determine who or what attacked one of my students, and whether other students are presently at risk."

"Attack? What sort of nonsense are you talking about?"

Madame Pomfrey let out a loud sigh of exasperation as she pulled a vial of black ooze out of her pocket.

"The kind of nonsense that caused this to eject from his scar…and required blood-replenishing potions and wound-closing charms to treat!"

Dumbledore's eyes darted towards the vial.

Umbridge's eyes darted towards the source of its contents.

"More attention-seeking lies, Potter?"

McGonagall snorted loudly.

"It wasn't lies that stained the insides of his bed curtains blood-red," she declared.

Pomona tried to focus on what she thought was most important by asking, "Should we be gathering all of the students in the Great Hall or not, Headmaster?"

"Whatever for?" Umbridge demanded. "I've already sent those that had gathered there back to their dormitories, each with a week's detention for being out after curfew."

"That's outrageous!" Hermione declared sharply.

Umbridge's beady-little eyes darted towards the two witches standing by Harry's bedside.

"And here are more out-of-bounds students?" she asked. "A week of detentions for you three as well."

"You can't give Infirmary patients detentions for breaking curfew when they are actually in the Infirmary!" Poppy protested.

"Neither can students be considered breaking curfew when they are with their Heads of Houses," added Pomona.

"And you think that either of you have the authority to overturn the disciplinary actions of the Hogwarts High Inquisitor?" Umbridge screeched.

"Why, as a matter of fact…"

McGonagall's indignant reply was interrupted by the trumpeting of an explosive fart.

The flush in Umbridge's cheeks changed over from being driven mostly by anger to being fueled mostly by embarrassment.

"Something wrong, Madame Umbridge?" snarked Sprout.

The toady-faced witch was in the middle of deciding whether High Inquisitors really needed to excuse their flatulence to unimportant people when her bowels loosened even more.

Umbridge winced, and hissed, "Where are your facilities, Matron?"

"Second door on the left."

The pink-robed witch headed towards the loo at a fast-paced waddle, not bothering to thank the Matron, or to react to the air-freshening charms that Poppy cast in her wake.

Those remaining within the main room looked at each other, trying to divine if Umbridge's gastro-intestinal issues had been magically generated.

Harry's poor efforts at hiding a cheeky grin seemed a dead giveaway.

"Something to confess, Mr. Potter?" asked McGonagall.

"More like something to award points for, if that's the case," Sprout quipped.

"I didn't have anything to do with it," Harry protested.

A second loud blast of flatulence sounded out from the loo.

"Or that either," he quipped with a smile. "Or that one…or…wow, that one almost sounded like it hurt. Are we going to need bubblehead charms here?"

"Could use a few well-placed silencing charms as well," Susan added slyly.

"I suggest that we put this interval of time to better use," said Dumbledore.

"If that old…woman…really did send my students back to the Tower without it being checked out first…" McGonagall hissed.

"Perhaps the three of us should make our way there now?" Pomona suggested.

The Headmaster shook his head, and declared, "I believe Mr. Potter's claim that the threat has been turned back. Still, if it would reassure you and your charges, Minerva…I would be happy to lead a thorough inspection of the Gryffindor dormitories."

"Might want to go now, before Umbridge returns," noted Poppy.

Harry chuckled. "Oh, I wouldn't worry about her showing up in the near future."

McGonagall snorted. "So is that a confession, then?"

"Not at all, Ma'am," Harry said innocently.

The Headmaster smiled, and nodded towards the Infirmary's loo. "It does sound as if our Matron might have another patient to attend to."

Susan made a gagging noise. "Don't suppose she could be treated in a separate room?"

Poppy shook her head. "There's just the storage room that I set up as a makeshift isolation ward whenever I suspect a case of Wizard's Flu or Dragon Pox."

"Now there's an idea," Hermione muttered.

A bright twinkle formed in Dumbledore's eyes. "Isn't an irritable bowel one of the symptoms of a case of Wizard's Flu?"

Poppy nodded. "Yes, it is…but only when it is accompanied by a high fever, discharges from the eyes, and emergent hair loss."

"I see," said Dumbledore. "So if Madam Umbridge were so unfortunate as to display these additional symptoms?"

"Then I actually _would_ need to set up that isolation ward," the Matron replied. "And hold the patient within it until a blood sample can be tested to confirm any preliminary diagnosis."

Hermione arched an eyebrow. "And how long would that take?"

Poppy shrugged. "A few days, unless the lab that I send the sample to in St. Mungo's gets backed up."

McGonagall rolled her eyes. "Can we get back to dealing with whatever it was that attacked Mr. Potter?"

"That's exactly what we are doing!" Harry quipped.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "If Poppy needs to focus on whatever is ailing…that woman…then I'm sure that Susan and I can mind her other patient. So if you professors deem it prudent to check out the Tower, then…?"

"An excellent suggestion," declared Dumbledore. He gestured towards the Infirmary entrance and asked, "Shall we, Professors?"

McGonagall and Sprout glanced at each other, then towards the lavatory after hearing a particularly painful-sounding release of gas. They nodded in agreement.

"We still need to have that discussion in the very near future, Mr. Potter," the Headmaster stated.

"Yes, we do," Harry firmly replied.

Dumbledore turned towards the Matron and asked, "Might I have the opportunity of examining that vial as part of my investigations?"

Poppy glanced towards Harry, who shrugged, and nodded his consent.

Dumbledore handled the vial with great care, and slipped it into a small dragon-skin pouch before pocketing it.

"Thank you, both," he said. "And now…Professors?"

The two Heads of Houses nodded, and followed the Headmaster out of the Infirmary.

Hermione smiled and turned towards Madame Pomfrey.

"We really can watch your patient for you, Ma'am, if there's some type of stomach settling potion to offer Madame Umbridge?"

Poppy snorted. "Alright, I've leave you kids to talk…just take care to remember that the _other _interrupted discussion needs to be completed as well."

"Yes, Poppy, we'll remember," Harry said with a chuckle.

Hermione pulled the privacy curtains around Harry's bed and cast privacy charms just as soon as the Matron turned her back.

"Alright, then what really happened?" Susan immediately asked.

"Just a sec," said Harry. He turned to his other girlfriend and counted off on his fingers.

"Right, then, so it's a combo platter of _Conjuctivitus_, and some type of warming charm…maybe a mild blood-boiling curse would work? And…anyone know a good hair-loss hex?"

Harry twisted his head towards some empty airspace.

"You do?" he asked. "Fantastic…oh, and that fart hex was brilliant...silent, but deadly."

The teen-ager then turned back to Susan and said, "Never mind, she's got that covered."

"Who has what covered?" asked Susan.

Dobby and a smiling wand-wielding witch faded into view by Harry's bedside.

"I've got Umbitch's symptoms covered," Daphne announced, twirling her wand in between two fingers.

"Ah! Now I understand," Susan declared. "I didn't know you could cast spells under Dobby's invisibility protection."

"I didn't either," Daphne replied.

"The question is whether Dumbledore knows, or what he suspects," said Hermione.

Harry shrugged. "He might have thought that somebody was just hiding under my cloak. And it doesn't seem like he's going to get in the way even if he did."

"Why would he?" Daphne asked. "Gets her out of his hair as well as ours for a few days…even sets up plausible deniability."

"True enough," Hermione decided.

"I'm off then," said Daphne, leaning down to place a quick kiss on Harry's forehead. "A little help, Dobby?"

The house elf nodded his head vigorously. Daphne and Dobby then disappeared from view.

Susan mulled over Daphne's kiss as the curtains parted and the invisible huntress headed off in pursuit of her prey. Then she snapped out of this musing, and asked, "So what happened?"

Hermione decided that she'd rather pull down Harry's covers than immediately answer the question.

"Hey, that's cold!" protested the hospital gown-wearing patient.

"We'll keep you warm, Harry," Hermione cooed. She looked up at Susan and asked, "Won't we?"

The Hufflepuff smiled, and nodded her head as she untied her sash and let her night robe fall to the floor. Harry thought it polite not to point out the Puff's nakedness. Hermione wasn't as reserved.

"Really, Susan?" she whined.

"You think that I was going to waste time getting dressed when I heard that my boyfriend was injured?" the pig-tailed witch asked, as she slipped into bed, pulled up the covers, and snuggled against Harry's side. Susan then asked, "What's with the hospital gown, Hermione?"

Hermione shrugged. "Daphne and I both had to grab something quick when Dobby warned us that you were heading this way with Sprout and McGonagall."

"I like the access," said Harry, as he snaked his hand down the hospital gown's open back and pinched Hermione's bum.

"Hey!"

Susan chuckled. "Must be feeling better if he's feeling frisky…are you going to pinch my bum too for appearances sake?"

"I think that I'd rather have matching snuggles after that ordeal," he replied, as he pulled each of the witches closer.

"So…are you really okay, Harry?" Susan asked.

He nodded. "I am now…and then some."

"What does that mean?"

"Voldemort did some kind of long-distance mental attack on Harry's brain while he was sleeping," said Hermione. "He was half-awake…Daphne and I were with him…and we helped with pain management…"

Harry snorted. "You do know that there are such things as pain relief potions, don't you?"

"Is that a complaint?"

"Oh, Hell, no."

"Good."

"So were you asleep or half-awake?" Susan asked.

"Good question,," said Harry. "It was all so strange and confusing...Voldie came visiting while I was in a middle of a dream. But he wasn't part of the dream...we chatted for a while…then he got upset and launched an attack."

"How did he even get inside your head, though?"

Harry thought to touch his bandaged forehead, but decided he'd rather keep his arms wrapped around his bedmates.

"Through my scar," he admitted. "I had some sort of mental connection with Voldieshorts that was tied into some residual dark magic from the night my family was attacked."

"Had…past tense, right Harry?" Hermione asked.

The teen-aged wizard shrugged. "I think so…Dumbledore probably thinks so too, based on that stunt he pulled with the snake."

"You weren't faking it?"

Harry shook his head. "Nope…guess I waited too long to give you a guided tour of the Chamber of Secrets."

Hermione snorted. "Fair price to pay for getting that black gunk out of your head."

"Yeah, I think so too," said Harry.

The curtain pulled back, and both Daphne and Dobby faded into view.

"Well, that's taken care of," the Slytherin stated. She squeezed her companion's hand and said, "Thanks for the help."

Dobby nodded. "You are most welcome, Harry Potter Sir's Fourthus."

The house elf popped off before anyone thought to question him about his ordering, or ask about the minimum qualifications for riding on Air Dobby.

"Well you all look comfortable," Daphne declared, looking down towards the bed. She reached for the edge of the blanket and said, "Budge over, Alpha."

"No room!" Hermione protested.

"Sure there is," Daphne replied, pressing the length of her body against Hermione's back. The Gryffindor witch squeaked when Daphne secured her place in bed by grabbing the Muggleborn's hip.

Susan had a dozen different questions on her lips, and ended up asking the one that was most directly related to sex.

"So how were you two able to help Harry fight off the mental attack?"

Harry chuckled.

Hermione shook her head and smiled. "Did you really think you needed to generate that much drama to weasel your way into a three-way shag, Sweetheart?"

"You think that I invited that drama?"

Daphne grinned. "No, but…still was a pretty damn good excuse."

"Three-way?" asked Susan. "They helped you fight off Voldemort with a ménage-a-trois?"

"Gives new meaning to 'Make love, not war,' doesn't it?" Harry quipped.

Hermione expressed her displeasure with that statement by tugging on Harry's sparse patch of chest hairs.

"You do know that I'm still waiting for a decent answer to that question, right?" she said.

Harry winced.

"And you were going to tell Susan that it wasn't Daphne that was shagging Harry this morning, right?"

Harry sighed. "Yes, Dear."

"Even though you were calling out more than just my name, right?"

"Erm…"

"So was it more than just Hermione and Daphne in this pervy dream?" Susan asked.

Harry winced again.

"Yes, but…it's not like I had any say on who was in it, and what you all were doing," he protested. "These shows for Myrtle must be having an effect on my subconscious."

Daphne snorted. "You didn't have pervy harem dreams before the performances started?"

"Erm…no, more that…oh, Merlin. It's just like the flock of sheep, only worse!"

"What is worse?"

"What Voldemort saw before I kicked his arse out of my head," Harry replied. "My wet dreams have put everyone at risk!"

"_Everyone_, Harry?" asked Hermione. "Do I need to call the DA and book the Room of Requirement for another confessional?"

Her boyfriend shook his head. "No, not that bad…just need another pool party."

Daphne propped herself up onto an elbow.

"Really?" she asked in amazement. "Another pool party with the same guest list?"

Harry closed his eyes and sighed.

"Same guest list…damn it, now I've dragged Tracy and Hannah into this mess, haven't I?"

"So you were shagging Hannah and Tracy?" Hermione asked.

"No, I was not shagging Hannah and Tracy!" claimed Harry. "They were just in the chorus with the Chasers."

"What chorus?"

"The chorus that was chanting _'Harem! Harem! Harem!'_ while the rest of you were…you know…."

"No, we don't know," said Hermione, using a clipped tone of voice. "Why don't you tell us?"

"Relax, Hermione," said Daphne. "It's not like he was the only one having pervy orgy dreams after that pool party…are you saying that you weren't?"

"None that involved Hannah and Tracy, thank you very much."

Susan giggled. "What about Lisa and me?"

"Why would…gah!" Hermione hissed.

A well-mimicked "hem-hem" caused everyone to break apart, and caused Daphne to roll off the bed, taking the blankets with her.

"Oof!" the Slytherin witch hissed, as she rubbed her sore bum. "Don't scare us like that, Matron!"

Poppy shook her head in dismay as she watched Susan try to pull the covers back over her body.

"Mr. Potter, is stripping down skyclad a requirement for _everyone_ who wishes to join you in bed?"

Harry chuckled. "No, Ma'am…it's not a requirement…more like a voluntary guideline."

"I see…so you've called in reinforcements, Miss Granger?"

Hermione also felt comfortable enough to display a little cheek. "Just laying in the defenses, Ma'am…in case of a follow-up attack."

The Matron snorted.

Susan pouted. "Hey, it's not as if it's his fault that he was attacked, was it?" she asked. "And you said yourself that if Dobby hadn't brought him here…"

"It wasn't how or why he was brought to the Infirmary that is at issue," Poppy replied. "More like whom he arrived with, and how they were dressed...or undressed, as the case may be...but never mind that. I want everyone but my patient out of his bed."

Daphne glanced down at the hospital smock she was wearing and whined, "But we don't have anything to wear!"

Dobby popped out of the blue and set three wrapped packages onto the bed.

"Dobby be bringing the Great Harry Potter, Sir's, Missuses their clothes for the day!" he announced.

Poppy tried (and failed) to ask the house elf a question before he popped away.

Harry chuckled as he reached down and slapped the bums of the two witches still in bed.

"Off you go, then," he quipped. "If Dobby has Poppy's back, then there's no getting around it."

"But...maybe we should be admitted for observation?" Hermione asked. "After all, we were exposed to a potential case of Wizard's Flu…"

"Hermione!" hissed Daphne. "Do you really want to spend the next two days with the High Inquisitor in that room?"

"Erm…right, never mind," the Muggleborn replied, as she pulled the covers back and swung her legs off the bed.

"Yes, well, then…I guess I should make sure that my other patient doesn't try to sneak off," said Poppy. She paused, then added, "You do realize that you would all be in quarantine right now if I really thought that she had Wizard's Flu, right?"

"Oh," said Hermione. "But if you don't think it's an actual case, then why…?"

"Blame the Ministry's health regulations," Poppy replied with a slight smile. "Anyone displaying that combination of symptoms has to be isolated and tested, even if their caregiver believes the symptoms to be nothing more than the results of a rather clever prank."

Harry snorted. "Hoisted on her own Petard!"

Poppy chose not vocalize her agreement. Instead, she said, "I expect Mr. Potter to be alone in bed and resting when I return in fifteen minutes' time."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"And none of that invisible business," the Matron added.

"Yes, Ma'am."

Susan shook her head as Madame Pomfrey pulled the privacy curtains shut behind her as she left.

"Is she really letting us dress in front of Harry…and did she really tell us exactly how long we have to ourselves?"

Daphne shrugged as she shrugged off her hospital gown.

"So now you're getting shy, Bones?" the now-naked witch asked.

"No…I mean yes…," said Susan. She slipped out of the other side of Harry's bed, and proved that she was just as comfortable as Daphne in her own skin by putting it all on display.

Harry tried not to stare, but failed miserably when the Hufflepuff bent down to unwrap one of the packages and let her D-cups dangle.

Susan was too focused on showing her snarky side to notice.

"Oh, this set must be for you, Greengrass," she said, passing the unwrapped bundle across the bed.

"How can you tell?" Harry asked. "The House patches are hidden within the folds."

"It's the brassiere," said Susan.

"What brassiere?"

"Exactly," Daphne quipped, as she pulled a white blouse from the unwrapped pile and slipped it on.

"So…you go braless under your uniform?" asked Harry.

"Sometimes," Daphne replied.

"Is that a problem, Harry?" asked Hermione. "Because if it is, then Dobby will have to fetch one of my bras as well."

"Erm, no…no problem at all," the smiling wizard replied.

As Daphne buttoned her blouse she nodded towards the tent that had formed in Harry's blankets.

"And just how are we supposed to ignore that?"

"The same way that I'm supposed to ignore the fact that you're dressing in front of me?" Harry teased.

"Exactly, Daphne," said Susan, as she fastened the back straps of her bra and swung it around in place. "It's not like you haven't seen Harry's todger at attention before, or touched it, or…"

"Or wanked it until it spurted bucket loads?" added Hermione.

Daphne sucked in a deep breath as she turned towards the Muggleborn witch.

"Are we going to have a problem about that?" she asked. "Because I seem to recall you falling off your boyfriend during a screaming orgasm, and you telling me to do whatever Harry wanted us to do..."

Hermione shook her head. "No worries, Daphne. And that was what it took to finally drive Voldemort off…right, Harry?"

"Erm…right," Harry nervously replied. He wondered if he should feel guilty about sharing surface thoughts of that event with the Headmaster. Or weird, for that matter…he wasn't that surprised that it was his corporeal Patronus that had driven off the Dark Lord's avatar. He just never would have imagined ejaculating Prongs out of his _other_ wand at the end of a wet dream.

Daphne shook her head as she stepped into a pair of pretty lace knickers and shimmied them up under her blouse tails.

"We really should have a long talk about what's going on here," she noted.

"I agree," said Harry. "But there's no time right now, and when we do all talk it definitely has to include the others."

Hermione sighed. "Are you sure about Hannah and Tracy, Harry?"

"Sure about what?"

"Sure about their place in your harem," Daphne quipped.

"What I meant is whether they now need to be fully involved in…everything," said Hermione.

Harry winced.

"Can we talk about it first?" he asked. "Maybe you can ask Dobby to pop you back here invisible later this morning?"

Daphne giggled. "Just you and Hermione, Harry? Sounds rather vanilla for your sex lives."

"Stop it! Harry whined.

Hermione nodded. "Maybe we _should_ test that portable toilet out and do an Infirmary scene for Myrtle," she teased.

Harry snorted. "I think we've filled her pervy pearly mind well enough for now," he declared. "Especially since I doubt that I'll be meeting Susan's Aunt today in Hogsmeade."

"What's Susan's Auntie have to do with whether you shag in front of Myrtle?" asked Daphne.

Harry sighed. "It _is_ a rather convoluted connection," he admitted. "We're performing in front of Myrtle to set up our revenge on Snape, but we can't get that revenge until we know that Snape can't grass out my godfather, so we need Susan's Aunt's help to get Sirius a trial, and that probably won't happen until I get to meet with her face to face."

Daphne nodded. "Is that before or after you sign Susan's betrothal contract?"

"Erm…yeah," said Harry, scratching the back of his head nervously. "Back to me needing to talk with Hermione?"

"It sounds like a plan," the bushy-haired witch agreed.

"Are we worrying about the wrong things, here?" Susan asked. "Because, if I understand right, then we ought to be celebrating the fact that Harry managed to kick Voldemort's arse again, and shut down the mental connection that's been giving him fits."

"Maybe we are, in a way?" asked Harry. "I mean…instead of worrying about some Dark Lord gunning for me, we're talking about boyfriend-girlfriend stuff. Like normal teen-agers."

Daphne snorted. "Oh, yeah…like every teen-aged boy has to worry about juggling a harem-load of witches who are sharing his bed."

Harry shrugged. "Does that mean that you want me to return the contract, then?"

Daphne arched an eyebrow. "Does that mean that you're expecting a crowded harem-sized bed if you do sign that contract?"

Harry ran his fingers through his hair, and cast a nervous glance towards Hermione. She grabbed his leg and gave him a reassuring smile.

"Get some rest, boyfriend…I think that you're going to need it."

Hermione punctuated that enigmatic response with a tender kiss. Daphne and Susan did the same, although they each grabbed higher up his leg than the Muggleborn had.

That his real girlfriend expressed her mock displeasure over this near-groping with playful swats on Susan's and Daphne's bums gave Harry certain ideas…and (once the three witches had left) drew his mind back to the wet dream that Voldemort had invaded. The teen-aged wizard wondered if the party crasher had ruined the suitability of that pervy scene as wanking material, and if everything down there was still in good working order.

Thinking that he could answer that question himself, Harry snaked a hand underneath the covers. But then he stopped, after remembering that Madame Pomfrey had an uncanny ability to pop up at just the wrong time.

**oo00OO00oo**

Headmaster Dumbledore sat front and center within the Great Hall, waiting impatiently for Saturday's extended breakfast hours to end so that he could review the morning's memories within his Pensieve. He would have already been doing this, had Professors Sprout and McGonagall not successfully guilted him into showing a united front at breakfast, and reinforcing the message that the student body was safe within the castle's walls.

Not that any of the students seemed worried about that morning's attack…not even those sitting at the Gryffindor Table. All of the animated chatter was focused on two different topics…the planned trips to Hogsmeade, and the High Inquisitor's illness.

Or apparent illness, as the case may be.

Dumbledore smiled to himself. He was going to enjoy Umbridge's absence over the next two days (or more, if he could manage to make the blood sample at St. Mungo's magically disappear). But whom to give credit? Whom to more closely monitor, so that this didn't become more than just an isolated incidence?

The answer, of course, was Harry Potter. But it wasn't as if he could keep that much closer tabs on the boy and his cloak.

Thinking about the boy returned the Headmaster's musings to the pilfered surface thoughts unknowingly made available during that morning's interview. They provided truly remarkable evidence in support of the Potter scion's story…unless they were somehow altered or fabricated. But Dumbledore really didn't think that was the case, for mostly the same reasons why he did not believe that the Bones girl was a lesbian. Harry Potter didn't know about the Headmaster's eavesdropping abilities, and if he did then the boy would have never willingly projected such explicitly incriminating images involving a bevy of naked female classmates.

And Dumbledore really doubted that the teen-ager would be creative enough to fabricate a sexual fantasy in which young women's orgasms and his own ejaculated Patronus were employed to beat back Voldemort's mental attacks and permanently shut down the shared mental link.

The Headmaster chuckled…he had long hypothesized that the "power the Dark Lord knows not" was the power of love…he just never would have imagined that this love would have been so bloody explicit.

There was no doubt about the dark magic that was infused within the black substance that had emerged from Harry's head. He had found traces of the same substance mixed in with the blood stains on the boy's bed curtains…it was also the same material that he had observed on the margins of Riddle's impaled diary three years previous.

It was a bittersweet conclusion…to have his theory that the boy's scar was a horcrux vindicated, but only after that horcrux had been destroyed.

Dumbledore knew that he ought to be happy about the situation…he wasn't _that_ dark, or _that_ evil, after all. It just bothered the Headmaster that Harry had been able to escape his destiny and achieve this outcome independent of the older wizard's well-crafted plans.

The Headmaster felt a bit adrift now that some of the most important pieces of those plans had been made redundant. Harry Potter had lost his ability to see through Voldemort's eyes. He no longer hosted a horcrux. He did not have to die in order to destroy that horcrux.

So now what?

"More tea, Headmaster?"

Dumbledore shook himself free from his thoughts and turned the witch who had made that offer.

"Yes, please."

The Assistant Headmistress nodded as she filled Dumbledore's cup, then added exact measures of milk and sugar. He lifted his tea cup to his lips and took a sip.

Dumbledore smiled as he wallowed within a small-scale epiphany…

There were far worse places to begin making plans than the bottom of a perfect cup of tea.


	16. Chapter 16

**The Python Defense**  
A bawdy and slightly disturbing H/Hr crack fic by canoncansodoff

**A/N**: Spam, spam, spam, spam...Crack, crack, crack, crack. Snow-angel Luna from "A Very Harem Christmas" makes an appearance in this chapter, but so does some of the brain-bleach worthy imagery found in Chapter 1. So buckle into your Gringott's cart, and hold onto your lunch…we're in for a wild ride.

Disclaimer: Not my characters, no money being made, etc., etc.

**oo00OO00oo**

**Chapter 16: Some Lovely Filth**

Severus Snape knew that he was in a deep pile of dragon shit.

From what Dumbledore both said and left unsaid during a hastily-arranged staff meeting, it was clear that the Dark Lord had launched a failed mental attack on the Potter brat. And he was going to be blamed for that failure. The Slytherin Head needed to _know right now_ what had happened, and what type of defenses were still in place after the attack. And this need prompted him to decline the Headmaster's invitation to a more thorough post-breakfast debriefing. A quick trip to the Infirmary, a Legilimency probe, one or two Obliviate spells (depending on whether the Matron tried to get in his way), and he would have the information needed to limit both the damage and the number of _Cruciatus_ spells.

Unfortunately (at least from his perspective), Severus Snape wasn't the only Head of House who had an interest in evaluating the present state of Harry Potter's Occlumency barriers.

"_Legili…"_

"_Expelliarmus!"_

The successfully targeted disarming spell sent Snape sailing backwards towards the Infirmary entrance. He landed on top of a small table, breaking both the table and the contents of the package that had been set out on it. A stunning spell then silenced Snape's moans and groans.

"That tosser!" shrieked the Matron, as she stepped out from behind a cabinet. "To have the nerve…the audacity…to cast a mind-reading spell towards one of my unarmed sleeping patients!"

The unarmed patient opened his eyes and stretched out his arms.

"Not sleeping any more, Madame Pomfrey," Harry noted. He turned towards his now-unconscious attacker, smirked, and added, "Brilliant bit of spell casting, by the way."

The Matron smiled. As she walked towards her patient's bed she replied, "That wasn't me…healers aren't in the habit of generating their own business."

A voice coming from beneath a nearby bed asked, "Even when they deserve it, Poppy?"

Harry sucked in a startled breath when the diminutive Ravenclaw Head popped up into view.

"I should have guessed," he stated. "Thanks for the help, Professor…I hadn't thought about incorporating real-life defenders into my Occlumency barriers."

Flitwick shrugged. "I'm just glad that I got here before he did, and that the guest-announcing charm on the Infirmary's doors gave us enough time to prepare a proper welcome."

The-Boy-Who-Lived looked towards his unconscious assailant and shook his head in disgust.

"I hope that you don't get in trouble for this," he stated. "A fiver gets you twenty that he'll claim that he was trying to help me somehow."

"He can claim that all he wants," said Poppy. "It's a rare day when patients require invasive mind-reading therapies, and that_…man…_is certainly not a board-certified mind healer."

The Matron walked over towards Snape and frowned.

"Nothing more than a nasty bump on the head."

"Don't sound so disappointed," Harry quipped.

Flitwick said, "I can fix that table quick enough with a _Reparo_, but as for whatever is leaking out of that parcel?"

Poppy rolled her eyes. "Oh, fabulous…that was my other patient's blood work waiting to be owl-posted to St. Mungo's. She'll be tickled pink to hear that I'll need to draw a replacement sample."

Harry couldn't resist hopping out of his bed and looking for himself.

"Get back into your bed, Young Man," the Matron admonished.

"Yes, Ma'am…say, is that some her blood spattered on Snape's robes?"

Flitwick leaned forward and nodded.

Harry rubbed his chin as he adopted a contemplative pose.

"Hmmm….tell me Matron, would somebody who was splattered with the blood of a quarantined patient have to themselves be quarantined?"

Poppy's eyes grew wide, then narrowed within a calculating gaze.

"Ministry heath regulations do require anyone with direct exposure to the bodily fluids of a Wizard's Flu victim to be held for 24 hours in case symptoms develop," she noted. "Unfortunately, that only applies when there is a _confirmed _case of the flu."

"Well that's too bad," said Harry. "Don't suppose it would help if the blood-spattered git started to show one or two of the characteristic symptoms?"

Poppy thought for a moment, then grinned.

"I believe a case can be made for full quarantine if someone exposed to those bodily fluids develops at least two of the four diagnostic symptoms."

"Does it matter which two?"

Poppy responded with a smile and small head shake.

"I'm going to go get that second blood sample from Madame Umbridge," she stated. "Would you two mind the blood-spattered git while I'm away?"

Harry smiled widely. "No worries, Matron…and while you're there, you might want to make up a second bed."

"Just in case, right?"

"Yes, yes…just in case."

Poppy grabbed Harry's arm and guided him back into bed. She then headed towards the converted isolation ward, whistling a lively tune along the way.

Professor Flitwick turned towards Harry and asked, "Something you care to share with me?"

Harry grinned.

"Yes, Sir…the four diagnostic symptoms for Wizard's Flu are an irritated bowel, fever, hair loss, and runny eyes."

**oo00OO00oo**

Hermione Granger would have been positioned to add an extra wand to her boyfriend's real-life Occlumency Barriers had Lisa, Susan and Daphne not redirected her away from the Infirmary and towards the Seventh Floor.

"My Head of House cornered me before breakfast," Lisa told her. "Told me that he was going to spend the morning working with Harry."

"I guess that makes sense," the bushy-haired witch replied.

"So where are we going, exactly?" asked Daphne.

Susan glanced back over her shoulder and replied, "Where do you…oh, right. You've only flown Air Dobby there before."

"Ah," said Daphne. "So will it be a shower, or a swim?"

"Can't hold much of a discussion when you are swimming, can you?" asked Lisa.

The Slytherin snorted. "Nobody had a problem flirting in the pool last night."

Susan giggled. "No Harry this time…want to flirt when it's just us girls?"

Hermione stifled a snort, and choked off verbalizing a joke that would have been just as self-incriminating as funny.

When the four witches reached the seventh-floor of the castle and approached the magical portrait of tu-tu wearing trolls, a wooden door appeared on the wall opposite.

"Huh…that's funny," said Hermione. "So somebody is already inside, and doesn't mind if we join them?"

"Same thing happened the other night when you were showing those Python movies," Lisa noted.

"Wonder who it might be," said Hermione. "Better safe than sorry?"

The other three agreed, and they cautiously entered the Room of Requirement with wands drawn. But what they discovered was far more Currier and Ives than curses.

It was an expansive winter landscape of snow-covered forested hills and distant horizons. Snowflakes were lightly falling, and a path led down towards a cluster of quaint cottages on the edge of an ice-covered pond some hundred meters distant.

Daphne struggled to understand the dramatic shift in setting. "So has magic brought the outside inside, or just shuttled us _to _the outside?"

Lisa caught a large, falling snowflake in her hand and watched it melt.

"We're still inside the Room," she concluded.

"How do you figure?"

"The air temperature is too warm, and the melting point of this snow is too high for it to be real."

Susan gave Lisa's arm an affectionate squeeze, and playfully gushed, "My girlfriend is so smart!"

"A comfortable, climate-controlled winter wonderland?" Hermione muttered, shaking her head in amazement. "Who would need this the most?"

The answer to this question was provided when the door to one of the shacks slammed open, and a pink-skinned witch ran barefoot (and bare-arsed) out into the snow.

Lisa shook her head and asked, "Could it have been anyone else?"

Hermione pocketed her wand and began walking down the path as the skyclad witch began to roll on the snow-covered ground. The other three followed.

"But why is she starkers right now?" asked Susan.

"Does Luna ever need a reason to be starkers?"

"Erm…yeah. Never mind."

As the four witches approached the fifth, she stopped rolling, jumped up, then fell backwards onto an undisturbed section of magically-enhanced snow.

"What are you doing, Luna?" Hermione called out.

"Making snow angels," the Ravenclaw replied, as she swept her arms and legs out and back.

"Why are you doing that?" Daphne asked.

The Ravenclaw sat up and shrugged. "Because the Room knew that I needed to make snow angels more than I needed to jump into a hole in the ice?"

Hermione shifted her attention towards the wooden shack from which Luna had emerged. She looked through the opened door and said, "But why would you….ah, sauna."

Luna shook her head. "No, Hermione…you're supposed to stretch that first 'a' out…here, let me show you."

The petite witch leaped to her feet and ran back towards the small windowless shack. The other four looked at each other for a few moments, then shrugged their shoulders and followed behind.

The front half of the structure was a small, sparsely-furnished room. A second wooden door on the opposite wall was closed shut. Next to this door were a small oak table and a stack of fluffy white towels. A curtain-less shower was tucked into one corner, with a plate-sized rain water nozzle suspended over a cedar-planked platform and hidden drain. The side walls had bare wooden pegs that were set at eye-level above empty wall-mounted shelves.

"Where did Luna go?" Daphne asked.

"I'm sure she's in the next room," said Hermione.

"Doing what?"

"Probably saying '_Aaaaaaaaah_'," the bushy-haired witch quipped. "This is a Muggle sauna…a popular place to relax and socialize, particularly in Scandinavia."

The Slytherin witch scrunched up her nose, signaling her confusion. She scrunched it again when Hermione began to unfasten her robes.

"What are you doing?"

"Stripping down."

"Why?"

"Do I need a reason?"

"Yes, Hermione, when it's you….you need a reason."

Hermione nodded as she hung her robe on one of the pegs and slipped off her shoes.

"You need to shower before you enter a sauna for the first time," she explained, turning the shower water on to a comfortably warm temperature. She slipped off her knickers, stepped under the spray, and glanced back towards the other three.

"Are you going to join me, or not?"

Lisa snorted. "A bit too crowded for all of us, isn't it?"

Daphne chuckled. "What's a little intimate skin contact between friends…right Hermione?"

The Muggleborn let out an exasperated growl. "Just hurry up, will you?"

Susan rolled her eyes as she slipped her bra straps off her shoulders and turned her back towards Lisa. "Not my fault I've got an extra piece of clothing…unhook me, will you Luv?"

Daphne quipped, "Such a burden, to have fabulous baps that all the boys drool over."

Lisa smiled as she unhooked Susan's strap and cupped each of Susan's breasts as the bra fell to the floor. Grazing her thumbs over her girlfriend's nipples, she noted, "A few of us girls think they are rather drool-worthy too."

The Slytherin witch stepped onto the raised platform and leaned against Hermione's back until her head was under the shower spray.

"Yes, they did seem to get a lot of attention last night, didn't they?" she asked.

Susan frowned as Lisa's thumbs trailed down her belly and hooked into the waistband of her knickers.

"What do you mean?" the pig-tailed witch asked, while her girlfriend pushed her pants down towards her ankles. "I wasn't the one sharing my bed last night."

"It was actually Harry who shared his bed," Daphne noted. "But I was talking about earlier in the night, during the pool party."

Lisa giggled as she stood up and pressed her body against Susan's back. Shifting her grip so that she could roll Susan's nipples in between her fingers, she said, "Yes, Luna was certainly paying attention to these during spin-the-bottle, wasn't she?"

"Not jealous, Lisa?" Daphne asked.

"She shouldn't be," Susan noted, as she led her girlfriend under the spray of warm water. "Since Luna seem just as fascinated with hers as she was with mine."

Hermione giggled, and asked, "So was Luna expecting us to join her this morning?"

Lisa shrugged as she stepped off the platform and squeezed some excess water from her hair. Reaching for the interior door's latch, she replied, "Don't think so… I didn't see her this morning."

"What do you mean? You just saw _all_ of her a few moments ago," said Susan, as she followed her girlfriend.

"Wait," said Hermione. As she reached to turn off the water spray, she noted, "You're supposed to wrap yourself in one of those towels before you go inside."

"Why bother to cover up?" asked Lisa. "We're all friends here, right? And Luna obviously wouldn't mind."

"It's just the way things are done," the Muggleborn replied. She passed out towels, then wrapped one her own around her body. "Once inside, you can always unwrap and sit down on it."

"Why sit on it?" asked Daphne.

"Because the benches might be uncomfortably hot for bare skin and it's bad manners to leave a puddle behind when you stand up."

"So this is some weird communal loo as well?" the pureblood witch asked.

Hermione growled out an exasperated "Oh!" as she pushed past Lisa and yanked open the sauna room's door.

Her face was hit with blast of super-hot air. Luna was sitting on a cedar bench next to a cast-iron wood-burning stove. Her face and chest was hidden behind an upside down copy of _The Quibbler_. Her lower half, in contrast, was spread wide and on full display.

The blonde-haired witch poked her head out from her newspaper and said, "It's '_Aaaaaah,_' not '_Oh_,' Hermione…and do come in and close the door before the Saunatonttu get annoyed, will you?"

The Muggleborn let out an amused snort as she complied with the Ravenclaw's request, and encouraged the other three witches to get inside before all of the hot air was let out. It was an extremely close fit as they unwrapped their towels and tried to find a place to sit all at the same time. Lisa and Susan ended up across from Luna and the wood stove, while Daphne and Hermione shared the bench that faced the door.

Once they were settled, Daphne glanced down at the knee that was pressed against the Slytherin's leg. She looked up at its owner and asked, "Wouldn't you be more comfortable sitting on somebody's lap, Luna?"

"Yes I would, but the Saunatonttu wouldn't be very happy with me.."

"What are Saunatonttu?" Susan asked.

"They're the elves that inhabit saunas and punish those who misbehave within them," Luna explained.

"And sitting on someone's lap is considered misbehaving?" Lisa asked.

Her house mate shook her head. "No, that's allowed…it's the nipple licking and fanny fingering that they frown upon."

Hermione chuckled. "So one thing would inevitably lead to the others?"

Luna caught Daphne's gaze and smiled.

"Did you know that the Hottubtonttu are far more open-minded when it comes to nipple licking and fanny fingering?"

Daphne caught a small breath in her throat, then exhaled. She formed an enigmatic smile on her lips as she gave the Ravenclaw's knee an affectionate squeeze and said, "No, I didn't Luna…but I'll keep that in mind."

Susan rubbed her arm against her forehead and whined, "Merlin, it's hot!"

"Yes, I suppose that it is," Luna replied.

"So what do we do now?" Susan asked.

"You are supposed to relax, silly," the Ravenclaw replied.

"But I can't relax when it's this hot!"

Daphne leaned forward, and watched the first drop of her sweat drop towards the cedar plank floor.

"I agree…can we get on with it?"

Luna arched her eyebrow. "It looks to me like you _are_ getting on with it, Daphne."

"But we're not here to sweat like pigs and roll naked in the snow."

"We're not?"

"No," said Lisa. "We brought Hermione her to discuss her issues."

"Aaaaaaaah," Luna replied. "That makes sense. The sauna is both a place to socialize with friends, and an experience that facilitates contemplative endeavors."

"Did you expect us to show up?" Daphne asked.

Luna shrugged. "At some point in time…I was thinking of a nice place to share with my friends and their benefits when I paced in front of the entrance."

"Wow," the Muggleborn said. "Wonder if the Room's magic was strong enough to guide us here this morning."

"Maybe," said Lisa. "On the other hand, where else would you want to go for a private chat?"

"Someplace not as hot?" Susan asked.

"I meant how the Room is set up," said Lisa. She looked across to Luna and asked, "Have you been here before, then?"

Her house mate smiled and nodded her head. "It's always this way when I visit the Room by myself."

"So can we talk about Hermione's issues?" Susan asked. "Quicker we sort her out, quicker we can get out of this furnace."

"I'm afraid that it doesn't work that way," Luna offered. "The Saunatonttu will insist that you relax before the sauna can aid any self-reflection."

"How can I relax when I feel like a boiled lobster?" the Hufflepuff asked.

Luna shrugged. "Give it some time…unless you four would rather hold this discussion in the yawna?"

"The what?" asked Hermione.

"The yawna, next door," said Luna, matter-of-factly. "You wouldn't expect me to sleep inside the sauna, would you?"

Daphne giggled, and teasingly asked, "So are there yawnatonttu next door that will punish anyone that wants to lick their friends or finger their benefits?"

"I don't know," Luna replied. "Would you like to find out?"

"Maybe later."

Luna smiled widely, and let out a little cheer.

"Yay!"

Lisa tried to steer the group back on topic. "Right, so until we've relaxed , no talking serious issues…like house elf ownership, or Hermione's hypocritical stance on the content of Harry's wet dreams."

"My what?"

"I'm glad we're in agreement, then," said Luna with a smile. "Best we talk about something a bit lighter…like Hermione's emergent bisexuality."

"Hey, now!"

Susan winced. "Too late…I can't take the heat anymore!"

The Hufflepuff stood and dashed out the sauna door.

Luna stood and said, "Are you three coming?"

The three remaining witches were definitely ready to cool down. They quickly followed Susan and Luna "outside," and found relief (and a surprising amount of enjoyment) as they rolled in a fresh blanket of magically-enhanced snow.

Once the slowly-melting snow turned from refreshingly cool to uncomfortably cold, the five witches returned to the sauna.

"So how long do we have to stay inside this time?" asked Susan.

"Until you can't stand the heat for one second more," Luna replied.

Susan winced. "And then we're supposed to run out and roll in the snow again?"

"Would you like me to ask the Room to cut a hole in the ice instead?"

"No, that sounds even worse," said Daphne.

"Can we get on to Hermione's insecurities?" asked Susan.

"It doesn't sound like you're very relaxed, Susan," Luna stated.

"I can't relax when it's so hot! Why are we even holding this discussion here?"

Luna shrugged. "Because it's the next best thing to being naked in bed with Harry?"

Hermione gave Luna a fish-eye. "Speaking from experience, then?"

"Oh, no…here we go again," said Daphne.

"What?"

"Your attitude, Dear," the Slytherin replied. "Why should it matter if Luna _has_ been naked in bed with Harry? All of the rest of us have…you've even orchestrated it."

"Yes, but there were perfectly logical reasons for that," Hermione countered. "Would you have rather spent the last night in your own dorm room, worrying about what Pansy might do while you were asleep?"

"So it's all altruism, then?" Daphne asked. "You've gotten nothing from sharing your bed with us? And the simulated sex in front of Myrtle…that's only for Harry's benefit?"

"That's right," Hermione agreed. "So that he gets revenge for what Snape has done to him during those Remedial Potions lessons."

"Dragonshit!"

"Oh my," said Luna. "It doesn't sound like Daphne is relaxing, does it?"

"So let's take it outside, then," Susan suggested.

She bolted for the door and disappeared. The others decided that it would be a good time for another cool down (both physically and emotionally).

A few minutes later, Susan once again reached the point where rolling naked in the snow provided more discomfort than heat relief. She stood and clamped her knees together.

"Getting cold?" asked Lisa.

Her girlfriend shook her head. "I have to use the lavatory."

"Pee or poo?" Luna asked.

"Does it really matter to you?" the Hufflepuff asked.

The younger witch shrugged. "If all I need to do is pee, I usually just go in the woods behind the yawna."

"Erm….okay. But what if I have to do…erm…more than just pee?"

Luna nodded, and pointed towards a small shack that stood farthest away from the pond.

"The poona is over there."

"The what?"

"The poona…where you can poo."

"Why would you call it a poona?" Daphne asked.

The blonde Ravenclaw rolled her eyes, and replied, "Because it might be confusing if I called it the loo-na?"

Susan's needs prompted her to dash towards the outhouse before a consensus could be reached on an appropriate name.

Hermione stood and brushed the snow from her bum.

"Well, I'm ready to head back inside."

Lisa nodded. "Think Susan could find her way back if we joined you?"

"Better question might be whether she would want to find her way back inside," the Gryffindor replied. "She might rather take a nap in Luna's yawna."

"Now that sounds rather naughty," said Daphne. "Might be better, though…don't see how we'll be able to talk for more than five minutes at a time in the sauna."

"We could always talk as we walk through the woods?" Luna offered.

"With or without our clothes?" Lisa asked.

The Ravenclaw shrugged. "Wrackspurts enjoy nesting in fabric."

Daphne shrugged too. "Don't really need to wear clothes with this room temperature and the not-so-cold snow."

Hermione's eyes lit up. "Luna…this is where you ran naked through the woods with Harry, isn't it!"

The Ravenclaw nodded. "Up until now, he's been the only other person I've shared this place with."

Daphne grinned. "So did you show Harry your yawna?"

Lisa shook her head. "That's a rather personal question, isn't it?"

Luna turned towards the Slytherin, grabbed her hands, and smiled. "Would you like me to show you my yawna, Daphne?"

The other blonde-haired witch squeezed Luna's hands and grinned. "Sounds like fun, but I'd probably just fall asleep, given how early we woke this morning."

"I'm sure that Luna could find ways to keep you awake," Lisa teased.

Hermione grinned. "Yes, but only if the yawna elves would allow it."

Lisa let out a healthy laugh. "Still need to talk about house elves and hot dreams," she then stated. "And I still haven't heard what happened this morning…other than Umbitch having a really bad hair day…maybe there's time to tell that story?"

Hermione snorted. "We still only know our half of it…that's why I wanted to talk with Harry."

"But he's got better things to do right now than justify his crowded wet dreams, right?" Daphne asked.

"I suppose so."

"Well, Professor Flitwick said he'd have Harry busy all morning, and half a story is better than none," Lisa stated. She glanced towards the sauna, and added, "Just so long as it can be told in under five minutes."

"Well that won't work," Daphne replied. "Especially if we start the story at the point when I first woke up and found my fist buried in between Hermione's legs."

"Daphne!" the Muggleborn hissed.

"Definitely want to start there," Lisa replied brightly. "So if the sauna is too hot, and if Daphne's ready to fall asleep…"

"Daphne could talk about fists and fannies while we make snow angels?" Luna suggested.

"No, too cold, even with this magic snow," Lisa replied.

Susan, having returned to the group, agreed. "And the sauna is too hot."

"Yes, we've established that point," said Daphne. She turned towards the cottages and asked, "So do those last buildings have dedicated purposes, Luna?"

"Yes, the closest one is where we could all have lunch," Luna replied.

Hermione chuckled. "So let's see…we've got a sauna, a yawna, a poona…that must mean that the dining area is called…"

"The spoona?" Daphne joked.

Luna's wide eyes grew even wider.

"That's right…so why didn't Mr. Hat make you a Ravenclaw?"

"Because Harry's harem needed at least one witch from every House?" Daphne quipped.

And at that very moment in Hogsmeade Village, the chasers were inspired to do some chanting.

"What about that last one?" Lisa asked.

Luna replied, "Oh, that's just the spa-na."

Susan's eyes widened. "Well why didn't you tell us that you had a spa, Luna?"

The quirky Ravenclaw shrugged. "Didn't I mention the open-minded Hottubtonttu that live there?"

The pig-tailed witch arched her eyebrows. "Hot..tub…tont…tu? Oh, I'm so there!" she squealed, as she turned and ran towards the spa-na.

The other witches followed, and soon found themselves soaking in an indoor hot tub that was just as big but far more rustic than the one located within the Prefect's Bath. The waters were so soothing that Hermione couldn't find the energy needed to complain when Daphne began at the very start of their early morning story.

**oo00OO00oo**

Severus Snape woke with a feeling of intense dread…as if something precious had been taken away from him. He immediately reached down to confirm that his bits were still attached. The small sigh of relief that escaped from his lips was sucked back in when he realized that not everything was still in place down there…his pubes had gone missing, and his shorts had been swapped out for a magical adult-sized nappie.

A loud burst of flatulence shifted the wizard's attention towards its source. He turned towards the only other person in the room and shouted, "D'oh!"

The bedridden witch whose bald head and missing eyebrows had prompted Snape's pained reaction snorted.

"Don't think [phhhhhhht!] for a moment that your ugly mug or your uglier-smelling toots are any prettier, Dearie."

The Potions Master didn't know what was worse…the sight of a bald High Inquisitor, the smell of her 'toots', or the fact that she had just called him 'Dearie'. He reached up and winced when his fingers rubbed across his own bare scalp.

"My hair! Where am I? What happened to me?"

Umbridge shook her head as she waved her blankets. "In the isolation ward of the Infirmary," she replied. "As for what happened…my first thought [phhhhhhht!] was that this was the Headmaster's doing. But now that you're here…"

"Potter!" Snape hissed.

Umbridge shrugged as yet another blast was released underneath her blankets. "We are displaying all of the symptoms of someone with Wizard's Flu. Ministry health regulations call for complete isolation until the diagnosis is confirmed or rejected by blood tests."

"How long?"

"Two days, according to the Matron," Umbridge spat out. "I don't know if that's actually true, but without my wand or access to the floo…"

Snape sucked in a deep breath as he reached first for his wrist-mounted wand, and then for the illegal second wand that he kept hidden in a notice-me-not charmed ankle holster.

"She took yours same as she did mine," Umbridge lamented. "Hiding behind more ministry protocols…it's dangerous for witches or wizards infected with the flu to do magic."

"It is preposterous to think that I have Wizard's Flu," Snape declared. "I was in perfect health when I [phhhhhhht!]…oh, pardon…when I entered the Infirmary this morning."

The conviction behind this statement was undercut by the coinciding incontinence.

"Same with me," Umbridge agreed. "And don't bother to excuse yourself…if we do that every time one of us has a release of gas we'll never be able to finish our sentences."

As Snape considered the ramifications of this statement, Umbridge turned towards a bedstand that was positioned on the other side of her bed. The edge of her blanket fell down as she rolled over, liberating some of the gas that had been trapped underneath.

"D'oh!"

"Oh, stop it, Severus," the witch admonished, grabbing the small jar that was sitting on the nightstand. She rolled back into a sitting position, twisting open the jar cap, then dipped two fat little fingers inside.

Snape would have arched his eyebrows, had he possessed any.

"Restorative tonic," Umbridge stated, as she began to smear the retrieved dollop of ointment into her pasty-white scalp. "Regrowing and keeping your hair is a counter indication for the diagnosis of Wizard's Flu."

"Ah, I see."

The Potions Master glanced away from the head-rubbing witch towards the room's only visible exit.

"The door is locked, and I'm magically tethered to this bed," Umbridge stated. "Don't expect that you're any different."

"What do you propose [phhhhhhht!] we do?" asked Snape, wincing after this latest passing of noisome gas.

Umbridge's eyes narrowed. "We can [phhhhhhht!] use this time to plan our revenge on those [phhhhhhht!] who have wronged us!" she declared. "Now turn over and face the wall."

"Why should I do that?"

The bald witch rolled her eyes. "Because you have to show that _all _of your hair has grown back…not just the hair that was growing out of your head. So unless you want to watch as I reach into my nappie and rub ointment onto my privates…"

"Say no more!" Snape shouted, throwing his shoulders around violently and averting his gaze as quickly as he could.

"It will only take five or ten minutes," said Dolores. "You can use this ointment after that."

Snape winced when he heard this response. He winced even more when he heard the onset of flesh rubbing.

"No thank you…I'll ask the Matron for my own jar."

"Suit [phhhhhhht!] yourself, Severus."

The Potion Master's entire body shook by a mixture of rage and revulsion. The thought of being stuck in a small room for two days with a flatulent toadish witch like Umbridge…and being forced to listen as she rubbed oil on her fanny…was the stuff of nightmares.

Or perhaps…the stuff of false memories?

Snape hissed, thinking that he was somehow once again inside the Potter brat's head, and had been duped by a manufactured gross-out dreamscape. The Slytherin House Head closed his eyes and concentrated on pulling out of the planted memory.

He opened his eyes, heard Umbridge's farting and rubbing, and cursed his present reality.

**oo00OO00oo**

The full hot-tub accounting of how Harry, Daphne and Hermione ultimately ended up in Madame Pomfrey's bed that morning was so riveting that nobody thought to test whether Hottubtonttu cared about sitting on laps or licking on benefits.

The story raised questions and catcalls in near-equal amounts. Lisa wondered out loud whether the Matron should be invited to the next pool party, given how willing she was to cover for the trio. Hermione explained that Pomfrey wasn't initially so forgiving, and that it wasn't until she scraped a sample of black gunk off of Harry's forehead that she began to soften. Daphne then noted all of the Matron's choicest words and sharpest tone of voice was directed towards Dumbledore _in abstentia_. She had long suspected that there was far more to his lightning-bolt scar than just damaged skin tissue, and had previously brought these concerns to the Headmaster. He had waved away her concerns, just as he had waved away her annually-presented suspicions about Harry's maltreatment and undernourishment during Summer Holidays. Hermione bristled when this last fact was retold to the group, swearing that there was no way in Hell that Harry would be returning to his Aunt and Uncle's house this year.

Susan was willing to pick up the story at the point where she arrived at the Infirmary with the two female Heads of Houses in tow, but Lisa jumped in first with some questions. Hermione restated her desire to first get Harry's side of the story, and called for Dobby. The house elf popped into the spa-na balancing a tray of champagne-filled crystal flutes on his head. He carefully set the tray down near the edge of the tub, then leaned over the edge and whispered into Hermione's ear. What he said caused the look on the Muggleborn's face to quickly shift from intense anger to intense amusement, and then to semi-reluctant understanding. He popped away before Hermione could ask any questions.

"What was that all about?" Daphne asked.

"Harry's still working with Professor Flitwick," Hermione said.

"Is that what's got your knickers in a twist?" Lisa asked.

Hermione scowled and shook her head. "Snape tried to sneak into the Infirmary and rifle through Harry's mind while he was asleep in bed."

"That bastard!" Daphne hissed.

"Must not have worked," said Lisa. "Or was there some other reason for your giggles and the champagne?"

Hermione nodded as she grabbed one of the flutes and told them that Snape had been stopped by Professor Flitwick, then pranked the same way that they'd pranked Umbridge. Susan thought that this was more than enough reason to celebrate, so she pushed herself up out of the sunken tub, and began passing out the other glasses of champagne. Lisa thanked Susan for offering her a glass by pulling her head down for a kiss. Luna thought that this was such a good idea that she did the same. Daphne giggled, and followed form, causing Hermione to jokingly pout, and complain about feeling left out. Susan called the Muggleborn's bluff by slipping back into the tub next to Hermione and pulling her head in for a brief (but intense) snog.

Lisa and Luna would have toasted any successful prank made on Umbridge or Snape, but it wasn't until Susan picked up the story and explained Daphne's carefully-chosen set of hexes that they fully appreciated the magnitude of what had been accomplished. Having Snape experience the same set of symptoms, and be forced to spend the weekend in isolation with the High Inquisitor, was icing on the cake (and more than enough reason to lift their glasses in a toast).

As they sipped the "yummy fizzy-beer" (as Luna described it), Susan wondered out loud if Dobby's response to Hermione's call meant that Air Dobby was still flying. This led to a discussion of the Headmaster's description of the limited circumstances in which a house elf could transport students within the castle. Hermione was convinced that Harry must have enslaved Dobby behind her back, in spite of his professed support for S.P.E.W.'s mission. Daphne chided the Muggleborn for immediately assuming the worst, and (more importantly) for reaching a conclusion before she had all the facts. Susan and Daphne then proceeded to provide those facts…that house elves had to be bound either to a magical family or to Hogwarts or else they would lose their magic and die within a year or two. Hermione used Dobby as the centerpiece of her counterargument…until she realized that his continued survival as a Free Elf might have been due to Dobby not being as free as she thought.

Luna suggested that they run down to the kitchens to interview the Hogwarts house elves first hand, but nobody else was all that anxious to get out of the hot tub and get dressed. Luna asked the predictable question concerning the necessity of clothing, and (once that idea was shot down) suggested that they could always call for Dobby and ask him directly. This approach was quickly agreed upon, but didn't bear fruit…none of them were able to summon the house elf by calling out his name. This was cause for great concern, with the worry being that Dumbledore had somehow grounded Dobby after his champagne delivery. Daphne wondered if all it had taken was someone pointing out to the little guy that none of them were actually part of Harry's family. Luna replied with a loud laugh and a big slap of water in the Slytherin's direction. She then asked if they weren't part of Harry's family, then who was? Susan nodded, and reminded the group of the Headmaster's comments about Dobby's ability to occasionally play fast-and-loose with the rules that supposedly governed house elf behavior. Daphne agreed, noting that Dobby had pulled her out of her bed and into Harry's shower even before he became anyone's real or pretend boyfriend.

Daphne's retelling of how Ron Weasley mistakenly thought that she was Cho Chang hiding under Harry's invisibility cloak drew laughter from everyone but Hermione. And the frown on her lips proved the perfect segue into a spirited discussion over her concerns about Harry's harem-filled dreams. When pressed, the Muggleborn was forced to admit that she had some naughty dreams involving more than just "Harry's very big penis," but said that there was a difference, given that the other sex-partners in her most recent erotic dreams were women. Susan asked why there was a difference, since it seemed that Harry was dreaming about other women as well. Hermione explained that the female partners in her dreams weren't a threat to replace Harry as her boyfriend, because they weren't boys.

Lisa didn't like this answer very much, and called the bushy-haired witch on it…saying that by discounting the potential for women as life partners, Hermione was marginalizing bisexual and lesbian relationships. The Muggleborn argued that it had nothing to do with her views on same-sex relationships…since she was straight, her subconscious fantasies about same-sex partners didn't mean that she was going to replace her real-life boyfriend with a real-life girlfriend.

This explanation drew snorts of amusement around the tub, and led to an explicit recounting of all of the real-life naughty activities that Hermione had enjoyed with real-life girls. A night-by-night tally of where she had slept over the previous two weeks (and with whom) led to the realization that she had spent almost as much time sharing a bed with a witch as with her boyfriend. She had even spent a night alone in bed with Lisa and her strap-on toy. Hermione once again said that it was all for a good cause…that it was done to protect Susan and Lisa's secrets. Daphne snorted, and asked Hermione to explain that morning, before Voldemort interrupted Harry's wet dream. She said that while providing her a safe place to sleep was certainly altruistic, that the start of a mutual wank session went beyond any concerns for her safety.

Hermione grew very quiet at this point, and asked Daphne if she regretted what had happened that morning. The Slytherin laughed, shook her head, and said she wished things had gone further…with both of her bed partners. She also was willing to own up to enjoying all of the same-sex kisses she had given and received during their pool party game of spin the bottle…especially when Luna insisted on providing her kisses while sitting on Daphne's lap.

Luna was so happy to hear this admission that she dived across the water and did a thong-free recreation of the game.

The Hottubtonttu didn't seem to object.

As Susan watched Luna aggressively snog the Slytherin witch, she decided to take advantage of the break in conversation, and jumped towards Lisa (intent on working off some of the sexual arousal she'd generated during the smutty recounting of Hermione's complex love life). Her girlfriend held her back just long enough to ask Hermione if wanted to join in a group snog.

The Muggleborn considered the offer for a moment, then shook her head, and encouraged the couple to carry on.

Luna then broke off her open-mouth kiss with Daphne and asked if Hermione would rather play with their benefits. Again, Hermione politely declined (but for less altruistic reasons…she was really interested in just how far the seemingly mis-matched same-sex couple would go if given the opportunity). Daphne arched an eyebrow, then shrugged as Luna began kissing her neck.

Hermione looked at the empty champagne glass in her hand, then reached over the edge of the tub and set it down on the serving tray. A breath caught in her throat when the glass was instantly refilled. She wondered if she could get tipsy from a possible violation of Gamp's Third Law. Then she remembered just how yummy the "yummy fizzy-beer" had been, and decided that one more drink wouldn't likely matter either way. Harry Potter's "Firstus" took the filled glass in hand, then leaned her back against the side of the tub wall so that she could check for any progress in the coupling.

There was progress.

Daphne was enjoying Luna's nibbling with her eyes closed. She was resting her weight against arms that were stretched out along the edge of the tub, which allowed her bum to float up off of the submerged bench, and lifted her breasts about the water's surface. Luna's kisses had taken advantage of this new-found exposure and drifted down towards the Slytherin's chest.

Hermione thought about the attention that Daphne had paid to _her_ breasts that morning as they had helped Harry beat back Voldemort's attack. As one hand raised her glass to her lips, the other reached under the neck-deep water and began to lightly tweak her own nipple. A few moments later, Daphne lazily opened her eyes and caught Hermione staring. She smiled, gave the Gryffindor a saucy wink, and offered another invitation with a wave of the hand.

The Muggleborn considered the offer for a moment, then shook her head, and encouraged the couple to carry on. Daphne shrugged and dropped her hand under the water in search of a submerged target.

A bit unnerved by having Daphne watch her as she watched them, Hermione's eyes drifted towards the other couple. Susan's back was turned towards the Gryffindor, as she sat astride one of her girlfriend's thighs. The Hufflepuff had lifted her girlfriend's other leg out of the water, and was rhythmically grinding as her partner thrust her hips to the same beat. It was Lisa who looked over her lover's shoulder and caught Hermione's eyes. She smiled, and offered a second invitation with a wave of her free hand.

The Muggleborn considered the offer for a moment, then shook her head, and encouraged the couple to carry on.

Hermione could truthfully say that she wasn't 100% ready to engage in real-life non-simulated full-blown lesbian sex…at least not without Harry present. But she was now willing to admit (at least to Harry and the rest of his so-called harem) that she _really_ liked to watch real-life non-simulated full-blown lesbian sex. Hermione thought back to the one relevant scene that hadn't been recounted that morning…the time that she was hidden under Dobby's invisibility spell and masturbated as she watched Lisa pound Susan from behind with her strap-on. Harry was in bed with them that morning…and rather than perv on the live lesbian sex show he had focused on her, and rubbed one off as she perved on the lesbian couple.

So Harry didn't mind his girlfriend voyeurism, and the only differences between that scene and this one were his absence and her fully visible presence…the knowledge that she was watching friends who knew she was watching as they explored benefits. Reaching a decision, Hermione quickly downed the champagne and set it back on the tray, which freed up both hands for some underwater rubbing.

Had she focused less on building an orgasm, and more on what could be seen out of the corner of her eye, she might had a fleeting glimpse of the other members of the audience…a pair of giggling hot tub elves that wore pointy red caps on their heads and trousers that were pushed down around their ankles as they rubbed off.

**oo00OO00oo**

Having recognized the point of diminished returns, Albus Dumbledore pulled his head away from his pensieve and carefully bottled the memories of his early morning visit to the Infirmary. He would have left them in the bowl, had he not anticipated the possible use of the pensieve that afternoon…the last thing he needed was having the boy enter the wrong memory, and realize that his Headmaster had lifted surface thoughts from his head.

Dumbledore's concerns over the potential discovery of his passive Legilimency skills segued into his concerns over his Potions professor…it was completely unlike Severus to pass up an opportunity to bitch and moan about the son of a dead enemy. The Headmaster wondered if Snape had declined the invitation in anticipation of a summons from Voldemort. Deciding to solve that little riddle, Dumbledore walked to his desk and took a seat at his personal command post. Portraits were questioned, and house elves were both summoned and dispatched. Within moments, the Headmaster had pinpointed his Potion Professor's location to a storage room within the Infirmary.

The first thought to pass through his mind was that Snape was checking on the stock of medicinal potions. But then Dumbledore remembered that the storage room had been converted that morning for another use. He immediately cast a Tempus charm then reached for one of his "special" lemon drops.

It was thirty minutes before noon…a half-hour before Harry's projected release from the Infirmary. The Matron had warned Dumbledore against arguing for an earlier discharge, or pestering her patient while he was still under her care. And Dumbledore had, over the years, grown to appreciate the need to at least pay lip service to these types of warnings. He could have always sent a Patronus charm message to Snape calling for his attendance in the Headmaster's Office, but they had tried to keep that capability outside of Umbridge's awareness. He could also send a house elf directly to that Storage Room. But if Dumbledore was to visit the Infirmary himself, rather than send a message, he could talk to Snape directly. And if Harry just happened to be awake, and willing to answer a few questions?

Dumbledore locked up his office and rode down his circular stairs. Along the way to the Infirmary he considered the optimum set of limited questions he might get away with asking the Potter boy...questions that might not result in direct answers, but might cause the young man to unknowingly bring useful bits of information up into his surface thoughts.

**oo00OO00oo**

Once the couples decoupled and everyone had found release (including the voyeuristic hot-tub elves) the teen-aged witches leaned back against the tub walls and caught their breaths. Hermione got everyone's attention by pointing out her thrice-filled champagne glass on the serving tray. The other four were quick to replicate her results, and were rewarded with their own filled glasses of yummy fizzy-beer.

There wasn't much conversation as Hermione and the others sipped on that champagne…or at least not much _verbal_ conversation. The giggles and knowing smiles said plenty, and what had just taken place seemed to have settled the issues surrounding Hermione's concerns with Harry's wet dreams. If she was going to get off watching that sort of thing in real life, and be tempted into joining in herself, then how could she possibly find fault if Harry only dreamed about the same cast of characters?

Questions remained about Dobby's relationship to both Harry and themselves, but he still wouldn't answer the call. The group decided not to worry about this, correctly assuming that Harry's current situation was far more tenuous than their own, and thinking that he probably needed Dobby's attention far more than they did.

As they continued to soak, the conversation drifted towards their families, and to their lives outside of Hogwarts. It was the kind of informational exchange that takes place whenever a group thrown together by circumstance works out the potential for new friendships. But it was also the kind of revelatory story swapping that a romantic couple might undertake in the early stages of their relationship (as they tried to work out whether they had a long-term future).

If they had been asked, any of the five witches would had decided that the latter was far closer to _their_ truth than the former.

**oo00OO00oo**

Having spent far more time than he either anticipated or desired inside the isolation ward, Headmaster Dumbledore opened the door and stepped back into the main patient care area. He pretended not to hear the screeched invectives and shouted complaints that these two patients were hurling towards his back. Harry Potter made no effort to pretend that he couldn't hear the complaints and disparaging comments that carried into the rest of the Infirmary, and was quite open about expressing his amusement over the situation. He even thought to take notes, since some of the more creative insults were worthy of re-use by the taunting Frenchman that was currently patrolling the castle walls of his mindscape.

Dumbledore shook his head as he used a _Finite Incantatum_ spell to cancel out the extra-strength bubblehead charm that he'd worn during his chat with the two patients (which had been cast to account for the smells rather than any fear of infection). He then turned towards the Matron and asked, "Is there any way that Professor Snape could be released from this confinement?"

"Absolutely not," Poppy replied. She pulled a scroll out of her robe pocket and unrolled it. "Would you care to review the pertinent ministry health regulations?"

The Headmaster shook his head. "I am confident that your decisions are well-grounded by the ministry's regulatory authority. I only ask that you consider certain extenuating circumstances, as well as The Greater Good…"

"Look, Headmaster…you might be able to pick and choose which ministry directives to ignore with impunity, but I have neither the power nor the inclination to risk my job or the health of the students and staff of Hogwarts just because you deem it necessary for some so-called greater good!"

Poppy glanced back over her shoulder when she heard someone clapping his hands.

"Well said, Matron…well said!" Harry cheered.

Dumbledore muttered something under his breath as he glared towards the teen-aged wizard. He then cast a _Tempus_ charm, and nodded in satisfaction.

"Very well then, Poppy…as we have reach the promised hour of your third patient's discharge, I ask that you remit Mr. Potter into my custody."

The Matron cast her own time check, then started towards Harry, huffing and puffing along the way about the rush. She insisted on performing a final diagnostic scan. What that scan revealed shifted her attitude from annoyance to something closer to wonder.

"Remarkable," she mumbled, as she reviewed the test results (as recorded on parchment with an auto-quill). Poppy looked up at Harry and said, "Despite this latest ordeal, your magical core has not only recovered…it is stronger than before!"

Harry shrugged. "Any chance that the black gunk limited or partially-blocked my magic?"

"I'm not certain," the Matron replied. "It could also have been some kind of siphon or parasite."

Her patient's eyes flashed towards the beard-stroking Headmaster who appeared lost in his thoughts.

"What is your opinion, Sir?" Harry asked. "Do you have any reason to suspect that something inside my scar was draining my magical strength?"

There was a lull in the conversation, before Dumbledore shook himself free of his musings.

"What? Oh, well…yes, it is possible," he stated. "It appears that you have lost your ability to use _Parseltongue_. Perhaps the magical energy used to support that rare skill is now available for other uses."

"Direct or indirect support?" Harry asked.

"I'm sorry?"

Harry sighed. "Sir, if your theory is correct, do you think that my core was directly supporting my _Parseltongue_ ability, or feeding something else that provided me with that skill?"

"It is hard to say," the Headmaster replied evasively, casting a wary glance towards the Matron. "Perhaps that is a topic better explored after your release."

Poppy snorted as she set her wand down on Harry's bedside table and began removing the gauze that was wrapped around his head.

"Well, given the residual magic that was coming off of that discharge, I'd vote for indirect feeding…by the way, Headmaster, any information to share about that sample?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "Nothing that I feel confident enough to share with you at this time."

The Matron deconstructed this evasive non-answer and shook her head in thinly-disguised disgust.

"Well would you look at that?" she asked, once the head dressing was removed. "You can hardly see the scar now!"

"Really?" asked Harry, as he looked into the hand-held mirror that the Matron had conjured. "Thanks, Poppy! That salve worked brilliantly!"

"It's no different or stronger than what I've applied before," she replied. "It's what happened this morning that burst open that cursed scar that must have done the trick."

Dumbledore frowned. "Mr. Potter, I must ask you to allow me to apply a glamour charm that restores your forehead its former appearance."

"Why would I want to let you do that?"

"There are some who would notice the scar's disappearance."

Harry snorted. "So?"

The Headmaster's nostrils flared in annoyance. "That scar was a symbol of hope for everyone within Magical Britain…a reminder for witches and wizards across the land that Good can always find a way to prevail over Evil."

The-Boy-Who-Lived let out an incredulous snort. "Right…aren't these the same witches and wizards who are now out there calling me dangerous and delusional? And you want me to paint a copy of that ugly scar back onto my forehead for their benefit? That's barmy."

"Mr. Potter, you must consider the Greater Good…"

"Fine," Harry snapped. "I'll consider it….there, I've considered it, and decided that the sheeple can sod off."

"Language!" Poppy gently chided.

Harry shrugged and apologized to the Matron. He then turned back towards the upset Headmaster and said, "Look, Sir…I've always tried to hide the damn thing underneath my bangs. As long as I keep the same hair style, who's to know?"

"It is still a risk…."

Harry wasn't in the mood to listen. He turned towards Poppy and asked, "So can I go now?"

The Matron's eyes darted back and forth between the Headmaster and her patient. She finally let out a deep sigh, and said, "I have no reason to keep you at this time…"

"Brilliant!" Harry declared, as he swung his legs off of the bed. "There's still time for lunch."

"One moment, Harry," Dumbledore said, as he reached out and placed a hand on his leg. "We are not yet finished here."

The teen-aged wizard rolled his eyes. "Sir, you came in here trying to spring me…and now that I'm free you don't want me to go?"

Dumbledore shook his head and turned towards the Matron.

"Madame Pomfrey, if you will allow us a few minutes of privacy?"

The Matron pursed her lips, and was close to kicking both wizards out of her Infirmary before Harry caught her eye and gave her a slight head nod.

"Very well," she said primly. "But the both of you will take care to remember that Mr. Potter is still my patient until he walks out those doors."

The Headmaster gave her a respectful nod.

"Of course, Madame Pomfrey…I thank you for your indulgence."

Poppy stifled a snort as she spun around and started walking towards her office. She had less success stifling the unfavorable comments that she made about the Headmaster along the way.

Dumbledore chose to ignore what he heard in favor of pulling the curtains shut around Harry's bed and casting several different privacy charms.

"If you wanted privacy, why don't you just take me up to your office?" Harry asked.

"It would be wasted effort, as we would just have to turn around and make our way back here," explained the increasingly impatient Headmaster.

"What for?"

"Mr. Potter, if what you've said is true, and Voldemort did make an attempt to breach your Occlumency barriers, then Professor Snape needs to evaluate the current condition of those defenses."

"Yeah, he needs to do that so much that he tried to mind-rape me in my sleep!"

"Mr. Potter! Surely you can't equate your Remedial Potions tuition with sexual assault?"

"Surely I can," Harry replied. "So what are you proposing…that I march into that room and ask Snape to cast another _Legilimens_ spell on me?"

"It's Professor Snape, Harry…and yes, that is the basic idea."

"Thought you didn't want the Ministry to know about this so-called training?"

"I don't."

"But you're proposing that he cast that spell with Umbridge right there in the same room?"

Dumbledore sighed. "I'm sure that we could find a way to distract Madame Umbridge."

"What about Poppy, then?"

"So long as her two patients remain in isolation, she has no need for concern."

"But they won't be isolated if you push me in there."

"You will recall that I just left that ward under the protection of a bubblehead charm…I can simply provide you with that same protection."

"It won't work."

"I assure you, young man, that I am able to cast a bubblehead charm."

"No, I mean that Snape's spell won't work."

"Professor Snape."

"Same difference."

The Headmaster sighed. "I doubt that Professor Snape's apparent symptoms would prevent him from casting that particular spell."

"What if he farts in the middle of the incantation?" Harry asked.

"Mr. Potter!" the Headmaster hissed. "Your immaturity is testing my patience."

"And you're not answering the question."

"Very well," Dumbledore growled. "If the caster of that particular spell is…distracted…in the middle of his incantation, the spell simply will not work, and no harm will occur."

"I still say that he won't be able to cast that spell."

"And I suppose that you are willing to share your logic with me?"

Harry snorted. "Sure thing, Headmaster…maybe I think that he'll have problems casting a Legilimancy spell…for the simple reason that **he doesn't have his bloody wand!**"

Dumbledore's head snapped back in response to the shouted ending of this explanation. He slowly counted to ten, both to calm his anger, and to consider possible work-arounds.

"We can provide Professor Snape with his wand, Mr. Potter."

"Not if the Matron has any say in the matter," Harry replied. "You know that the two of them aren't allowed to do magic right now…are you suggesting that we break into Poppy's locked office?"

"I am certain that she will make allowances given these special and important circumstances."

"Yeah, that line work worked really well the first time you used it on her, didn't it?"

"This is vital, Mr. Potter! Surely you realize the potential dangers of an unshielded mind!"

"Okay, I guess that you agree that your smooth talk won't get you anywhere with the Matron," Harry reasoned. "So what are you proposing…that you steal Snape's wand out of her locked office desk? Planning on knocking her out first, or erasing her memories afterwards?"

"Mr. Potter, I do not have to stand here and listen to your scurrilous attacks."

"No, you certainly don't…neither of us need to be here right now."

"I can't let you go until we know how strong your shields are right now!"

Harry shrugged. "So test them yourself…I don't know why you'd trust any description that Snape provided in the first place."

"Professor Snape!"

"Yes, Sir. Professor Snape."

Dumbledore drew his wand.

"Aren't you going to at least bark at me first to _clear my mind_?"

The Headmaster sucked in a deep breath.

"What I am going to do, _Mr. Potter_, is cancel my privacy protections. At that point in time, you and I will leave the Infirmary and travel up to my office. Once there, I will take up your suggestion and test the strength of your Occlumency Barriers myself!"

Harry stared at the Headmaster for a moment, then allowed his lips to curl up into a slight smile.

"Well alright, then," he declared. "Let's do it."

As the two wizards left the Infirmary, the-Boy-Who-Lived couldn't help but notice that the Headmaster's robes were now billowing behind him much like Severus Snape's always did. This special effect, when taken along with Dumbledore's thinly-disguised anger, proved inspirational.

Careful to stay two steps behind the Headmaster, Harry began humming the martial melody from the musical score to "The Empire Strikes Back."

"Da-da-dum, dum-de-dum dum-de-dum…."

**oo00OO00oo**

"_Legilimens!"_

Dumbledore's avatar was dropped onto the crest of a grass-covered hill, a short distance away from a formidable-looking castle. The landing zone was just upslope from a dozen miserable-looking mud-covered villagers who were hacking at the ground with crude hand tools.

The Headmaster took a few moments to compose himself, knowing that his anger would only make it easier for Harry to bounce him out of the mindscape. Once he felt calm enough to carry on, he started down the hill and called out to one of the villagers.

"Old woman!"

The person looked up towards the intruder and cried, "Man!"

"Old Man, sorry. What part do you play in these mental defenses?"

"I'm thirty-seven."

"What?"

"I'm thirty-seven…I'm not old."

Dumbledore nodded. "Certainly not by my lifetime's measure…but I couldn't just call you 'Man'."

"Well, you could say 'Dursley',"

The Headmaster's eyebrow arched a little as he looked more closely at the fat muck-covered Muggle who bore a striking resemblance to Harry's Uncle.

"But I didn't recognize you at first, or realize that your name was Dursley," Dumbledore explained.

"Well you didn't bother to find out, did you?"

"Yes, well…I did say sorry about the 'old woman,' but from the behind you bore a passing resemblance to Molly Weasley…"

"What I object to is you automatically treating me like an inferior!"

Dumbledore shrugged. "Well, I AM the Leader of the Light…"

"Oh, Leader of the Light, eh? Very nice," Vernon scoffed. "An' how'd you get that title, eh? By exploitin' us normal persons with your freakishness…by hanging on to outdated dogma which perpetuates the economic and social differences between our two societies! If there's ever going to be any natural behavior in our world…"

"Vernon, there's some lovely filth down here," interrupted a second villager. The skinny rag-wearing woman then twisted her giraffe-like neck towards Dumbledore and said, "Oh…how do you do?"

"How do you do, Mrs. Dursley…you might remember me? I am Albus, Leader of the Light."

"Leader of the who?"

"The Light."

"Who are they, then?"

"Well…everyone who stands against the Darkness. We are all the Light, and I am your Leader."

"I didn't know we had a leader. I thought we were an autonomous collective."

Vernon scoffed. "You're fooling yourself, Petunia. We're just pawns to be sacrificed by a Manipulative Old Bastard. A self-perpetuating freakish autocracy in which normal people…"

Petunia rolled her eyes. "Oh, there you go again, bringing freakish behavior into it…"

"Please, please, Mr. and Mrs. Dursley…I am in haste. Are your nephew's thoughts and memories stored in that castle?"

"Who?"

"Your nephew, Harry Potter."

"Never heard of him," said Petunia.

"Why of course you have, Mrs. Dursley…you took him in when I left him on your doorstep all those years ago after the tragic death of your sister, Lily."

Vernon's cheeks flushed red with rage. He lifted his crude hand tool and yelled, "So it was you!"

"Yes, I was the one that reunited Harry with his only remaining family…"

"Who do you think you were, to do that to us?"

"I am the Leader of the Light!"

"Well, I didn't vote for you," Petunia muttered.

Dumbledore sighed. "You don't vote for Leaders of the Light."

"Well, how did you become Leader, then?"

The Headmaster glanced up towards the heavens, and fondly recalled…

"Many years ago the phoenix known as Fawkes…"

[begin phoenix song]

"…appeared in a brilliant ball of flame, flew to my shoulder, and bonded with me as my familiar, thereby signifying that I, Albus, was The Leader of the Light."

[end phoenix song]

Vernon rolled his eyes. "Listen, you dress-wearing dunderhead…singing birds that burst into flames are no basis for a system of government. Supreme executive power derives from a mandate from the electorate, not from some farcical feathered fart."

"Be quiet!" Dumbledore hissed (with some of the anger that he had previously released making a quick return).

"Well, you can't expect to wield supreme executive power just because you're cosy-rosy with a tarted-up chicken..."

"Shut up!"

Vernon shook his head dismissively. "I mean, if I went around saying that I was Leader of the Light just because some whorish hen decides to squawk on my shoulder they'd put me away!"

A banishing hex roughly pushed Vernon away from the Headmaster.

"Be quiet!"

"Ah, now we see the freakishness inherent in the system," the fat Muggle whined.

"Will you shut up!" Dumbledore yelled.

"Now we see the freakishness inherent in the system! HELP! HELP! I'm being attacked!"

"Bloody Muggle"

"Oh, what a give away," Vernon declared. "Did you hear that, did you hear that, eh? That's what I'm on about…did you see him doing his freakish things to me?"

Dumbledore ended the rant with a silencing spell and a body bind hex that snapped Vernon's arms to his side and toppled him face-first into a mud puddle.

It took no time at all for the angry Headmaster to arrive at the base of the castle's thick stone walls. The taunting French soldier appeared, but his insults fell on deaf ears…literally. The magical ear muffs that Dumbledore conjured kept him from hearing some of the more creative insults (e.g. _"Go and boil your buttocks, you color-blinded, empty-headed, geriatric goat-fucker!"_), while the tall slab of granite that he normally used to defend against the killing curse proved equally effective against catapulted cows.

The Headmaster found the main gates on the far side of the castle to be guarded by the thong-wearing Knights Who Say Nee. Their "bouncing boobies" distraction defense failed to get a rise out the old wizard, and they were easily placated by a conjured shrubbery that looked nice and wasn't too expensive.

Getting past the castle's outer gates gave Dumbledore access to the Outer Baily, where a dozen different false memories were floating about, just waiting to be activated. The Headmaster was wise enough to ignore these temptations, saving the vial of brain bleach that he always had on hand for the portrait of the naked Fat Lady that hung on the entrance into the Inner Baily. He had no interest at all in manually stimulating the Rubenesque guardian to orgasm, and quickly identified a hidden bypass that seemed far more familiar to him.

The Fat Lady was not amused, and screamed, "That's the wrong hole! That's the wrong hole!"

Dumbledore ignored these complaints as he kept his head down and pushed through to the other side. The quick casting of a rather specialized cleaning charm _("Tergo Santorum!"_) had Dumbledore's avatar scrubbed up and ready to face the innermost layer of Harry's nested Occlumency barriers.

It was The-Boy-Who-Lived himself, standing next to a narrow channel of water, and in front of a small red and white-striped gate. The teenager was dressed in a khaki uniform and wore a pith helmet.

"Ah, Mr. Potter…I wondered if I might see you within one of these barriers."

Harry took two steps forward and revealed the sardines that he'd been hiding behind his back. He used these sardines to lightly slap the Headmaster's cheeks. He then took two steps back.

"I say, is this some sort of obscure Muggle salutation?" Albus asked.

Harry took two steps forward, slapped the Headmaster's face with the sardines, then took two steps back.

"Hmmm…this is a rather unusual," said Dumbledore. "Are the strength of these fish slaps meant to cast me out of your head?"

Harry took two steps forward, slapped the Headmaster's face with the sardines, then took two steps back.

Dumbledore chuckled. "Might I suggest that you reorder your layers? Better that a weak line of defense such as this be placed at the outer edge of your shields."

Harry took two steps forward, slapped the Headmaster's face with the sardines, then took two steps back.

"I'm sorry, but this is getting annoyingly repetitive," said Dumbledore. "Next time, try a larger species of fish." He then conjured a halibut, took two steps forward, and walloped Harry on the side of his head.

The pith helmet went flying, but the teen-ager somehow managed to stay on his feet.

Dumbledore switched hold of the halibut's tail, setting up a slap that would send Harry tumbling into the water. With his entire focused on breeching this last line of defense, the Headmaster never noticed the seven-foot long, four-hundred pound bluefin tuna…until the giant fish leapt out of the water and crashed into his side.

**oo00OO00oo**

"_Ennervate!"_

It took a bit of time for Albus Dumbledore to regain his wits, and to realize that he was no longer within somebody else's mindscape. He was on his back, stretched out on his office floor. A wand-wielding student stood to one side, while a house elf hovered over him, waving an eighteen-inch long brown trout over his head.

"Okay there, Sir?" the student asked.

The Headmaster groaned as he reached for the tender bump that was growing on the right side of his head. "What in Merlin's name…"

Harry sighed.

"Perhaps we should get you to the Infirmary, Headmaster?"

"No!" Dumbledore hissed, gingerly sitting up off the floor. "I'll manage."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes, Mr. Potter…I fear that I might fall victim to the same strange symptoms than have befallen other recent visitors to that part of the castle."

Harry chuckled.

"Fair enough…Dobby, would you please fetch us a headache potion and some bruise remover from the Infirmary?"

"The Great Harry Potter Sir not be needing my help?"

"I think the Headmaster needs your help more than I do right now," Harry stated.

The house elf dropped the trout onto the floor and popped away.

Dumbledore winced. "Was that your…"

"My last line of defense?" Harry asked. "Absolutely."

"But how?"

The last line of defense popped into the Headmaster's office with a potion in one hand and a poultice in the other. Dumbledore drank the first, then held the second against the house elf's point of attack.

"Dobby always seems to know when I'm hurting," Harry explained. "Trying to counter your Legilimancy probe was hard work…I was sweating and getting a terrific headache. Somehow, the little guy knew I needed help, and instinctively knew what to do once he arrived."

"Does he always travel with a fish that is half his length in size?"

"Erm…no. I sort of gave him an idea of what to do if he ever found me fending off another mental attack."

"But why did he hit me with a fish?"

Harry chuckled. "Because it was less lethal than releasing the tiger, or dropping a sixteen ton weight on your head?"

"Were those things waiting for me had I gotten past your sardines?"

"Perhaps," Harry said slyly. "So now are you ready to share what you really think about that scar?"

The Headmaster stood up, and threw the sternest look possible he could muster towards the messy-haired teen. "Mr. Potter, I need to be certain that your mental defenses are sound before I am able to share anything with you."

Harry shook his head and laughed as he reached down and picked Dobby's trout up by its tail. He started waving it, as if readying himself for a real-life fish slap.

"Why don't you make another run at me, then?" he asked cheekily.

"Harry, you must trust me."

"I could say the same for you, Sir."

Dumbledore closed his eyes and shook his head in disappointment.

"Then we are at an impasse. Perhaps when you decide to act like a responsible young man…"

Harry let out a deep breath as he handed the fish back to Dobby (who hadn't shifted his bulbous eyes away from the Headmaster since his return from the Infirmary). "Right, if that's all, then Headmaster?"

"Just a moment, Mr. Potter…there is still the matter of Dobby's assistance with your transportation."

Harry reached out and placed his hand on Dobby's shoulder. "Ah, yes…it's wonderful, isn't it? I would have surely bled out and died this morning if he hadn't been there for me…wouldn't you agree?"

"Dobby always be watching out for The Great Harry Potter, Sir, just as The Great Harry Potter, Sir, was watching out for me when Bad Master was here finding outs about his Bad Master's book!"

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, it is good to have such a vigilant and useful friend," he stated. "Still, there are concerns over the improprieties linked to those instances in which he carried you not to the Infirmary, but to another person's bed."

Harry looked down at the floor as he considered possible responses to the Headmaster's expressed concerns. He reached a decision then lifted his gaze until it focused on Dumbledore's chin.

"Would you like me to swear on my life and magic that aside from my own, the only bed that I'm aware of Dobby bringing me to was located in Madame Pomfrey's quarters?"

Dumbledore's eyes widened.

"May I be assured that your only visit to the Matron's bed happened this morning, Mr. Potter?"

Harry pursed his lips. "It's the only visit that I'm aware of, and that's only from what I was told. I was apparently unconscious at the time of transport."

Dobby nodded. "Dobby be making sure that The Great Harry Potter, Sir's Poppy be knowing about The Great Harry Potter Sir's injuries."

Dumbledore nodded. "And what about visits by young ladies to your bed, Mr. Potter?"

"Erm…what about them?"

"I simply can not allow it."

"Is that a schoolwide concern, Sir, or are you just interested in my personal life?"

"It is not just myself, Young Man. I strongly suspect that Professors McGonagall and Sprout are lined up for the opportunity to express their concerns as well."

Harry sighed. "Fine…I promise to never knowingly share my bed with another person, unless I have the consent of my Head of House."

Dumbledore pursed his lips. "_Knowingly_, Harry?"

The-Boy-Who-Lived shrugged. "Hey, what am I supposed to do if someone crawls through my bed curtains while I'm asleep?"

"Does this happen frequently, Young Man?"

Harry grinned. "No, but given the apparent size of my fan club, and how strident a few of its members are getting…"

"Very well, then," said Dumbledore. "Now, are you prepared to promise the same when it comes to crawling through your girlfriend's bedcurtains?"

Harry snorted. "How would you expect me to get past the sliding stairs leading up to the girls' dormitories?"

Dumbledore gave Dobby a pointed glance.

"Aside from any assistance provided by your friend here, I will note that there are no sliding stairs within Hufflepuff House."

"Geez, are we going to be at this all day, then?"

"If that's what it takes for me to allay your Head of House's concerns…"

"Okay, fine. How about this, then…."

**oo00OO00oo**

A few minutes later…

"Well, ladies, I have some good news and some bad news," said Harry, as he stripped off his clothes and slipped into the spa-na's hot tub. "What do you want to hear first?"

"The good news, of course," said Hermione.

"Mr. Harry Potter, Sir?" Dobby asked.

The messy-haired teen looked up at the house elf standing on the side of the hot tub.

"Want to join us, Dobby?"

"Dobby doesn't swim, Mr. Harry Potter, Sir."

"Hmm…well, then…Luna, can you ask the Room to help out here?"

"Harry, how did you know that she was in charge?" Susan asked.

The teen-aged wizard looked out the spa-na's large windows and took in the winter landscape.

"Lucky guess?" he asked.

Luna closed her eyes for a moment. A moment later, a pair of inflatable water wings appeared high up on Dobby's arms.

"Thank you!" Harry called out, as Dobby jumped into the water feet first.

The house elf's light weight and short legs allowed him to float freely on the gurgling, churning water.

"Whee!" the house elf shouted.

"Okay, then," said Harry, now that all of his closest friends were in the tub with him. "The good news is that I goaded Dumbledore into making a run at my Occlumency barriers."

"That's good news?" asked Lisa.

"It was when Dobby and I were able to kick the old goat's arse!"

Dobby looked over at Harry with concern. "Dobby be thinking that Dobby be slapping heads with fishes, not kicking arses with feets, Harry Potter, Sir."

Daphne laughed. "We'll want to hear all the details…but what's the bad news?"

Harry nodded solemnly, as he sipped some champagne from Hermione's glass. "Right…the bad news…well, the bad news is that I had to promise the Headmaster that I will no longer share my bed with my girlfriends, and won't be visiting their beds either."

"Really?" Hermione gasped.

"How could you?" asked Daphne.

Harry shrugged. "Didn't have much of a choice, after this morning."

"So no more late-night spooning with your girlfriend?" Susan asked.

"Or friendzzzzzzzz…." Hermione teased.

Harry gave the two witches a funny look.

"Well, if you all have gotten tired of spooning with me…"

"Now who said anything like that?" Hermione asked.

"Okay, okay, I just didn't want to assume anything," Harry said with a grin. "Don't worry, Dobby came up with an excellent plan."

The house elf shook his head with tremendous vigor.

"Dobby be executining the Great Harry Potter, Sir's Great Plan!"

Lisa snorted. "So what's this plan, then? Invite your girlfriends to share a hammock?"

"Nope."

"Futons, then?" Hermione asked.

"Sleeping on the castle's cold stone floors?" asked Harry.

"My yawna is nice and warm," Luna promised.

Harry chuckled. "I'm sure that it is, Luna."

"Oh, I've got it!" said Daphne. "You said that you promised not to share a bed with your girlfriends?

"That's right."

"Then all you need to do is make sure it's not a girlfriend that you're sleeping with."

"I'm not so sure I like that idea," said Hermione.

"No, no you don't understand," the Slytherin stated. "When is your girlfriend not a girlfriend?"

"When you're her cover boyfriend?" Lisa quipped.

Susan shook her head. "Maybe…but she's also not your girlfriend once she becomes your fiancee."

There was a moment of silence as five pairs of eyes darted towards Harry.

Daphne sighed. "Too bad that I don't see any signed contracts."

"And he's not exactly on bended knee," added Lisa.

"Is that a ring box that keeps poking me in the ribs…or are you just happy to see me?" Hermione quipped.

Harry let out a deep breath and risked a small smile.

"Ladies…what kind of guy would I be if the only reason for me to propose marriage is the strong desire to get into my girlfriend's bed?"

"A regular kind of guy?" Susan asked.

"Oh, ye of little faith."

"Might explain her sexual preferences, though," Daphne noted.

Susan started to giggle. "So what did you do to get around your promises?"

"I didn't do anything," Harry said brightly. "Now, Dobby, on the other hand…"

"The Great Harry Potter, Sir, now be sharing his bed with his bestest male friend Neville Longbottomer!" Dobby shouted.

"Really?" Lisa asked. "Now isn't that interesting?"

Harry snorted. "What my amazing friend meant to say is that he helped me loan my bed out to Neville."

"So Neville is going to be sleeping in your bed now?" asked Susan.

"That's right."

"So where are you going to sleep?"

"Oh, I'll be sleeping in Neville's bed."

"He swapped them!" Hermione realized. "Harry's promises won't keep him from sharing Neville's bed with his girlfriends…that's brilliant!"

The Muggleborn witch showed just how brilliant she thought it was by pulling first Harry, and then Dobby, into crushing bare-chested hugs.

Daphne pouted. "Well that's all well and good, but what if we wanted to share our beds?"

Luna smiled as she reached under the water and squeezed the Slytherin's thigh.

"I didn't make any promises, Daphne."

The other blonde-haired witch waggled her eyebrows. "No you didn't, did you?"

"Dobby be tricking the naughty Headmaster with lots of tricky bed swapping!" the House Elf declared. "Miss Daphne's bed be swapped with the Bulstrode's!"

"Why didn't you swap my bed out for my friend's Tracy's bed?"

Dobby replied. "Dobby be thinking that Harry Potter, Sir's Ox-zoo-ery be needing bed swaps as well."

"Ox-zoo-ery?" Harry asked.

"He means the Harem Auxiliary," Hermione explained with an eye roll.

Dobby nodded. "Harry Potter, Sir's Tracy be bed swapping with nasty Pansy, and Dobby be swapping both Suzy Secondus's and her roommate's beds with beds from across the hall."

"Oooh," Daphne winced. "Don't know if I want to force Tracey to sleep on that slag's mattress."

"No worries, Harry Potter, Sir's Fourthus…Dobby just be swapping out the beds, and be keeping the same mattresses."

"Good idea," said Harry. He smiled, pulled Dobby in so that he could wrap his arm around the little guy's shoulders, and asked, "So did we do good, or what?"

Hermione leaned out and planted a tender kiss on both Harry's and Dobby's cheeks.

"You both did brilliantly!" she declared.

Daphne shrugged. "Oh, I don't know…I still say that making us all your fiancées was a pretty good plan."

"Do we have to rush that sort of decision?" Harry asked. "I mean, not that I wouldn't want to…erm….some day…with Hermione's help making decisions and all…"

Hermione shook her head and planted a second kiss on her boyfriend's lips. "You're so cute when you're flustered."

"He makes a good point, though," Lisa noted. "We've got solid alibis set up now, and we've neutralized both Umbridge and Snape, and Harry and Dobby gave the Headmaster a whopping headache after activating The Python Defense, and it's the weekend…"

Daphne giggled. "Sounds like we should test out just how effective the bed swap is as a work-around."

"Have a particular bed in mind?" Hermione asked.

Harry let out a content sigh as he relaxed in the soothing waters. "Why do we have to leave this place?" he asked. "So long as Dobby can pop in food from the kitchens…"

"Oh, there might be a few items needed for an overnight stay," said Hermione.

"Well clothing certainly doesn't need to be on that list," Susan quipped.

"I'd want my toothbrush," said Hermione.

Dobby shouted, "Dobby be taking care of what all of Harry Potter's Missusses be needing!"

He popped away.

Susan giggled. "Guess Dobby thinks that you don't need anything from outside the Room, Harry."

"Nope," the teen-ager replied, placing an arm around his girlfriend's shoulders. "I've got everything that I need right here!"

"Fluff-alert!" Daphne shouted.

The rest of the witches laughed, until Dobby popped back with his arms filled with a wide variety of personal toiletries and adult toys.

"Dobby be getting some lunchy foods to Luna's spoona!" he stated, before popping away again.

Harry glaced towards the pile of stuff that Dobby had left behind and began to snicker.

"I think we'll have to cancel that Fluff-alert," he snarked. "Unless somebody needs that riding crop for a pony ride?"

"Okay, so I recognize Lisa's strap-on…who owns those Muggle handcuffs?" Hermione asked.

Susan laughed, and asked, "Hey, Luna…think the Hottubtonttu will punish us if we use some of this stuff to punish ourselves?"

The Ravenclaw shrugged. "I don't know…but I'd be willing to help find out!"

The laugh that escaped from Harry's lips morphed into a loud yawn.

"Ah…sorry, guys, but you might have to experiment without me. I'm knackered."

"That's okay Harry…we've got the rest of the weekend," Hermione replied.

"How about a group spooning?" asked Susan. "We can see how many of us can fit into Neville's bed?"

Harry winced. "That sounds good, even when it sounds so wrong…Luna, if you're in charge of the Room, how about someplace for a comfy nap?"

"Oh, she might already have that covered," said Susan. She then asked, "Hey, Daphne…how big is Luna's yawna?"

Daphne beat down a saucy comment about finger counts, and chose instead to pull the Ravenclaw into a hug.

"I think that what Luna needed most today is what all of us really needed. So if her yawna is a tight fit, well, then…what's a little intimate contact between friends and their benefits, right?"

Everyone was quick to agree with this sentiment, and almost as quick to hop out of the tub. Everybody had help toweling off, and as they headed out the door towards the yawna, each of them stopped to pick out one or two items from Dobby's pile of overnight needs.

The stasis charms that Dobby placed on the food he left inside the spoona came in handy as the group tested the open-mindedness of the yawna's elves after waking from a very nice nap.

The pervy hottubtonttu's loss became the equally voyeuristic yawnatonttu's gain.

**oo00OO00oo**

A/N: Some real-life Muggle Finns really believe that saunatonttu exist (tonttu = "elf" in Finnish)


End file.
